Gone Girl - Review

Director: David Fincher Writer: Gillian Flynn Studios: 20th Century Fox, Regency Enterprises, Pacific Standard Cast: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Tyler Perry Release Date (UK): 2 October, 2014 Certificate: 18 Runtime: 149 min

Reviewing David Fincher’s “Gone Girl” is like walking on eggshells -- eggshells filled with explosive spoilers set to blow at the slightest crack. So I’m going to have to choose my steps wisely here, lest those shells break open and those spoilers spill out with catastrophic, movie-ruining consequences. Of course, as any film critic should know, discussion of spoilers should be strictly avoided when reviewing any movie, but the sheer mystery-shrouded, whodunit, don’t-fucking-spoil-it-for-me-or-I’ll-kick-the-shit-out-of-you nature of “Gone Girl” means that one cannot review it in full without risking revealing the juicier details of the plot (and indeed getting the shit kicked out of oneself). Rest assured, I will tread with the utmost of care and reveal as little as possible -- that is, if I haven’t revealed too much already.

The first thing that should be said is that the film is, frankly, terrific -- I’d happily place it among Fincher’s best films, and considering his best films are the brilliant masterpieces “Se7en,” “The Social Network,” “Zodiac” and “Fight Club,” that’s no mean feat. The second thing that should be said is that fans of Gillian Flynn’s original book, among whom I count myself, will be pleased to hear the film sticks close to its source material -- it’s a thorough, faithful adaptation, with only a few minimal changes here and there; though considering it was Flynn who wrote the screenplay, that’s hardly a shock. The third thing that should be said is that Rosamund Pike is sensational: I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she gets an Oscar nomination for this come February, or maybe even a win. And the fourth thing that should be said is that Tyler Perry is actually, genuinely, properly good in this movie. You read that right: Tyler “Madea” Perry gives a good performance here, and he does it without wearing a wig or a flower-patterned granny frock.

The central mystery concerns whether or not Missouri bar owner Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck, on very fine form) killed his beautiful wife, Amy (Pike). On the day of their fifth wedding anniversary, Nick comes home to find smashed glass on the living room floor, an ottoman flipped onto its side, and his wife missing. Concerned (but weirdly laid-back about the whole thing), Nick calls the police, who upon close inspection discover that a pool of blood has been mopped up from the kitchen floor. Coming under the watchful, ever-judging scrutiny of the public eye in the midst of a media frenzy, and with investigators poking more holes in his story the longer Amy is missing, Nick becomes the prime suspect of the investigation -- all the while he stubbornly insists that he had nothing to do with his wife’s disappearance.

As in the book, the film jumps back and forth (albeit not as frequently) between Nick’s perspective and Amy’s diary, which, read aloud by Pike, charts her and Nick’s relationship from their flirty first meeting right up to her disappearance. Both are classic unreliable narrators, often contradicting each other: Nick tells investigators he never once struck his wife; Amy’s diary says he threw her into the staircase banister during an argument about them having a baby. Knowing who or what to trust proves difficult, especially with the certain roles certain characters are playing -- though, as per my no-spoiler promise, I will say no more. On a related note, however, I will say that Flynn’s meaty script, like her book, is full of all sorts of sharp, insightful and witty observations on romance and relationships, and the various roles that one must play in order to keep a “happy” marriage. As a depiction of a modern relationship, it’s scathingly cynical, and in typical Fincher style, delightfully fucked up.

Affleck and Pike just sizzle together, be they sharing their first, sugar-coated kiss or screaming bloody murder into each other’s faces -- sweetly charming yet believably screwed up (with one a teensy bit more screwed up than the other), they’re a great screen couple whose relationship we watch crumble to bits. And Fincher has surrounded them with a great supporting cast: Kim Dickens is steely cool as Detective Rhonda Boney, the sharp-minded chief investigator of the case. Carrie Coon has a lovable snark as Nick’s close, ever-supportive twin sister Margo. Tyler Perry boasts a smooth charisma as Nick’s attorney, a suave Johnnie Cochran type whose main method of prepping his clients for TV interviews is flinging jelly babies at them. And Neil Patrick Harris is slitheringly creepy as Amy’s ex-boyfriend and former stalker, a stinkingly rich weirdo who may or may not be a red herring (*poker face*).

As always, Fincher’s slick and moody direction is absorbing throughout: despite the whopping 149-minute length, the film never drags. And soundtrack duo Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, returning from Fincher’s “The Social Network” and “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” deliver another haunting joy of a score which lingers ominously in the background of almost every scene. The film has a dark energy to it, which works well with its warped sense of humour and especially well when, towards the end, it goes down a spectacularly twisted path. No spoilers, once again, but it must be said, Fincher and Flynn pull no punches with the violent nastiness and disturbing themes -- on three separate occasions, the audience with whom I saw the film audibly gasped in horror (while I giggled internally at the viciousness of it all).

I think I’ll end the review here, before I give the game away. All I’ll say in closing is that the film really is must-see: it's a fabulously enjoyable, brilliantly crafted mystery thriller bursting at the seams with all sorts of dark, delicious secrets. And to think, I almost let slip that it was the butler who did it.

Rating: 9/10

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 Purge: Anarchy - Review

Director: James DeMonaco Writer: James DeMonaco Studios: Universal Pictures, Blumhouse Productions, Platinum Dunes Cast: Frank Grillo, Carmen Ejogo, Zach Gilford, Isaiah Pearce, Kiele Sanchez, Michael K. Williams Release Date (UK): 25 June, 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 103 min

The trouble with “The Purge,” director James DeMonaco’s dystopian 2013 thriller, was that it started off with a genuinely scary premise -- in the near future, America is once a year plunged into a government-enforced 12-hour period called the Purge, during which all crime including murder is legal -- and for the following 90 minutes proceeded to flush it down the crapper. Restricting the action to a single location, that location being a locked-down suburban home under attack from masked Purgers, DeMonaco wasted pretty much all the potential of that great premise on what was ultimately the most boringly generic home invasion horror imaginable -- here you have a concept that results in widespread panic and carnage across the entirety of America, and yet here we are, stuck between four walls. It’s no coincidence that the opening titles, in which we’re presented with CCTV footage showing all the anarchic chaos going on outside, are the most interesting and entertaining part of the film -- given the premise, that’s the kind of film you’d expect, not a suburban remake of “The Strangers.”

In that sense, sequel “The Purge: Anarchy” is everything its predecessor could and should have been. Clearly taking criticisms of the first “Purge” to heart, and armed with a bigger budget thanks to the first film’s highly profitable box office takings, DeMonaco removes the action from those restrictive four walls and drops it into the streets of Los Angeles. As the annual Purge commences once again, we follow a group of five individuals who find themselves trapped in downtown L.A.: there’s Shane and Liz (Zach Gilford and Kiele Sanchez), a young couple whose car dies on the highway and who are being relentlessly pursued by a masked gang; there’s Eva and Cali (Carmen Ejogo and Zoe Soul), a waitress and her teenage daughter just trying to make it through the night when they are mysteriously targeted in their home by an armed military force; and then there’s Leo Barnes (Frank Grillo), an ex-cop who willingly sets off on Purge Night, armed to the teeth and driving around in an armored car, for reasons unknown.

Brought together, they battle to survive in a city-wide 12-hour warzone, dodging armed thugs, snipers on rooftops, and family members with a grudge. DeMonaco maintains a gripping air of unease as the group are stalked, hunted and attacked at practically every corner they turn, all the while he recalls images of gangland anarchy from dystopian cult classics “Escape from New York” and “The Warriors:” a city bus racing down the road while fully ablaze, the body of a pension-thieving stockbroker strung up outside a court, and masked maniacs running down the streets wielding machine guns and baseball bats. All haunting images which paint a brutal picture of an America torn apart by violence, and violence not only sanctioned by the US government, but encouraged by it, too.

Grillo, meanwhile, makes a pretty damn convincing argument for him to play Frank Castle in a future “Punisher” movie: protective yet stand-offish, grizzled and commanding, and with an intriguingly tragic undercurrent, he’s got the personality down pat -- not to mention, he’s a certified badass, practically unstoppable either with a gun or his bare mitts. All that’s missing is a skull on his chest. His fellow survivors are a mixed bag: Eva and Cali are quick to gain our sympathy thanks to their believable and touching mother-daughter connection, plus the fact that they’re thrust into this horrible situation despite their best efforts. Shane and Liz, meanwhile, are a boring and rather vacuous couple, without much personality or chemistry. Not to be mean, but giving a hoot about either of them proves difficult, resulting in a supposedly heart-wrenching moment towards the end falling flat on its face.

In the scene before that, DeMonaco sees an opportunity to ram home the film's message and rams pretty damn hard, as we witness the top 1% auctioning off the poor for slaughter. It’s this darkly disturbing scene, along with the earlier depictions of city-wide violence among the poor, which makes “The Purge: Anarchy” not just a solidly diverting b-movie, but one with real satirical bite. If “The Purge” merely nibbled on America’s culture of violence and government-enforced class inequality, “The Purge: Anarchy” takes a big, fat chomp out of it and spits it back out in disgust. Sure, it’s hardly the most subtle of messages -- the point about the inequality gap is repeatedly shoved down our throats, and as if to shove it even harder, a stupendously unnerving rendition of America the Beautiful blares over the closing credits -- but in terms of taking advantage of and exploring the satirical potential of its central concept, it boasts an appreciable thoroughness that was entirely lacking in its predecessor.

Rating: 7/10

3 Days to Kill - Review

Director: McG Writers: Luc Besson, Adi Hasak Studios: Relativity Media, EuropaCorp, Wonderland Sound and Vision Cast: Kevin Costner, Hailee Steinfeld, Amber Heard Release Date (UK): 20 June, 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 117 min

If there’s a balance to be found between a gritty action-thriller, a sappy father-daughter drama and a lighthearted crime comedy, “3 Days to Kill” fails to find it -- and then some. This absurdly clumsy spy movie comes from mononymous mega-hack McG, and if you want proof of just how ham-fisted a director he is, look no further than his latest film’s staggeringly muddled tone: one minute we’re watching Kevin Costner’s CIA man with a brain tumour Ethan Renner blowing badguys’ faces off and snapping necks, the next we’re watching a cheery montage of him teaching his estranged teenage daughter (Hailee Steinfeld) how to ride a bicycle (!). To say it's tonally confused would be an understatement: don't get me started on the torture scenes played for laughs or the bit where Steinfeld's character is almost gang-raped in a public bathroom.

French action maestro Luc Besson also produces, and there are echoes of his 2008 hit “Taken” heard throughout: its action hero is, after all, a greying CIA dad who marches through the streets of Paris, taking no names and torturing silly-sounding foreigners, and in amongst the punching and shooting there lies a family conflict. The thing is, “3 Days to Kill” can’t decide if it’s the next “Taken” or a parody of it, with its unfunny comedy scenes sticking out like a broken thumb. On three separate occasions, a tense situation is *hilariously* interrupted by an Icona Pop ringtone blaring from Ethan's pocket. It’s not funny the first time; it’s even less funny the second time; by the third time, you begin to yearn for the good old days when McG was directing the “Charlie’s Angels” movies.

The sole saving grace is Costner, though even he seems confused as to who he’s supposed to be playing: Jason Bourne, Bryan Mills or Disney dad Tim Allen. In a career which includes “Waterworld,” a.k.a. that film where he drank his own piss and had gills on his neck, this just might be Costner’s low point -- for crying out loud, he’s being directed by McG. For an action film, “3 Days to Kill” is nowhere near thrilling enough. For a comedy, it’s nowhere near funny enough. For a McG film, it’s exactly as expected; that is to say, it’s vacuous, empty-headed, boring nonsense.

Rating: 3/10

Sabotage - Review

Director: David Ayer Writers: David Ayer, Skip Woods Studios: Open Road Films, Albert S. Ruddy Productions, Crave Films, QED International Roth Films Cast: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sam Worthington, Olivia Williams, Terrence Howard, Joe Manganiello, Harold Perrineau, Martin Donovan, Max Martini, Josh Holloway, Mireille Enos Release Date (UK): 7 May 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 109 min

Following up his first directorial stab, the grippingly authentic 2012 cop drama “End of Watch,” screenwriter-turned-director David Ayer continues his career-lasting obsession with American law enforcers. In “Sabotage,” he turns his eye to a crack DEA task force fighting Mexican drug cartels, only this bunch wouldn’t look out of place on the other side of the US war on drugs. Led by Arnold Schwarzenegger’s grizzled cigar-chomper John “Breacher” Wharthon, they’re all tattoos, cornrows and beaded goatees, and they live up to their dodgy looks — while raiding a cartel warehouse, they secretly thieve $10 million from the stash in the basement and blow up the rest to cover their tracks. Sounds like a solid plan, only the money goes missing, they’re found out by their superiors and soon enough they’re being hunted down one by one in variously nasty ways.

As it was in “End of Watch,” Ayer’s vision of American policing is admirably grim and gruesome — struck by a speeding train, a grown man is reduced to a pile of meat, another is nailed to a ceiling, and recalling the kidnapping of his late wife, Arnie angrily barks, “They sent me her face in the mail!” But anyone going into “Sabotage” expecting the same level of authenticity or intensity of Ayer’s debut is sure to be let down by the lunkheadedness of the script and the emptiness of the drama — despite the sky-high body count and hefty funeral costs, the film lurches through its plot with nary an emotion on display. And anyone hoping for some brainless action based on the presence of Arnie is also in for disappointment: on the excitement front there’s a raid scene at the beginning, a car chase/shootout at the end and precious little in between. As for the Governator himself, he’s handed a grimly tragic backstory, yet his facial expressions rarely change from T-800 blankness and constipated straining — though as ever, he sure does look mighty fine with a cigar between his gnashers.

Rating: 4/10

Blue Ruin - Review

Director: Jeremy Saulnier Writer: Jeremy Saulnier Cast: Macon Blair, Devin Ratray, Amy Hargreaves, Kevin Kolack, Eve Plump, David W. Thompson, Brent Werzner Release Date (UK): 2 May 2014 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 90 min

Hollywoodified glorification and glamourisation of violence and murder get a thorough gutting in “Blue Ruin,” Jeremy Saulnier’s spellbindingly disciplined, stripped-down indie thriller which paints its grisly revenge story in a grimly authentic and blood-soaked light. Set in the American South, the film — which was crowd-funded through a Kickstarter campaign and bagged the FIPRESCI Prize, as voted for by critics, at last year’s Cannes Film Festival — follows Dwight (Macon Blair), a raggedy, homeless outsider whose quiet life as a drifter is turned upside down when the killer of his parents is set free from jail. Travelling to Virginia in a rusted, curiously bullet-riddled Pontiac — the eponymous blue ruin — Dwight embarks on a mission of revenge, a mission which brings him back to his estranged sister (Amy Hargreaves), whom he must protect when the ex-con’s family come gunning for some payback.

Saulnier’s second film, following his little-seen 2007 horror comedy “Murder Party,” is astonishingly grounded. This isn’t the kind of thriller where the hero can take an arrow to the knee and simply walk it off; indeed, soon after receiving said injury, an increasingly woozy Dwight tries in vain to mend his bleeding wound, realises he’s completely unfit to do so, stumbles his way to the hospital and collapses at the reception. The film feels like a response, or perhaps a kick up the backside, to fakey Hollywood violence, where savagery is treated flippantly and often shown to have little consequence; Saulnier goes to great lengths to make the violence of “Blue Ruin” feel unnervingly real, subverting cliche to achieve a fresh and frightening authenticity. The resulting drama is breathtakingly intense, with scenes so dripping with suspense they’ll have you cramming your fist into your mouth to stop you from squealing.

Blair, meanwhile, captivates as the amateur but endearingly determined avenger Dwight: he’s a rather pathetic figure, seen in the film’s opening sleeping in his car, eating out of dumpsters and urinating into glass jars, but it’s to the credit of Blair’s subtly layered performance that not only does he gain our sympathy but also that we’re absolutely with him right to the bitter end. As Dwight finds himself slap-bang in the middle of a blood-drenched nightmare, Blair inhabits all the fears that must come with suffering and committing acts of horrific violence: fear of death, fear of failure and fear for the safety of one’s loved ones. Dwight is especially concerned about that last point, and who can blame him: as he’s quick to discover, violence only begets more violence, and as we see throughout the chilling “Blue Ruin,” one swing of a blade can spiral terrifyingly out of control.

Rating: 9/10

Captain America: The Winter Soldier - Review

Director: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo Writers: Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely Studios: Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures Cast: Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Cobie Smulders, Robert Redford, Samuel L. Jackson Release Date (UK): 26 March 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 136 min

Though recently defrosted from his days as a WWII super-soldier and supposed to be readjusting to the ways of the modern world, Chris Evans’ star-spangled man with a plan has found himself slap-bang in the middle of a ‘70s paranoia thriller — featuring Robert Redford, no less. In Marvel’s “Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” there are some shady goings-on over at S.H.I.E.L.D. — shadier than usual, anyway. The super-spy organisation at the centre of Marvel’s ever-expanding cinematic universe is not to be trusted, if you’d believe such a thing: in an underground bunker, they’re building helicarriers worryingly capable of wiping out suspected threats before they’ve actually done anything; a covert mission to stop the hijacking of a ship turns out to be a cover for extracting top-secret data; hunted by mysterious foes, S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury breaks into Cap’s apartment and advises him to “trust no one;” and Redford’s high-up official Alexander Pierce, along with the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D., is starting to look awfully sinister. If Joe Johnston’s 2011 predecessor “The First Avenger” was in the pulpy vein of the Indiana Jones adventures, the Russo Brothers’ sequel has the paranoid political charge of old conspiracy movies like “All the President’s Men,” “Three Days of the Condor” or “Marathon Man” — albeit with a little more computer-generated leaping and flying and kicking and punching, mind you.

What ultimately makes “The Winter Soldier” work is that not only does it strike a good balance between its CG action and political intrigue — for every time Cap bashes a badguy in the face with his big metal shield, there’s a cutting dig at government surveillance or the fine line between freedom and fear — it actually blends them together in a way that’s very effective. A scene in an elevator between Cap and some curiously nervous-looking S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives builds up suspense through suspicious glances and dripping beads of sweat, and then pays it off with a thrilling, electrically charged punch-up; similarly, a tense attack on Fury’s car by supposed police officers in the middle of a Washington street explodes with some high-tech weaponry. And the plot itself, following Cap as he and Scarlett Johansson’s agile and sharp-minded super-spy Black Widow go on the run from the organisation they once trusted, is straight out of an old-school Sydney Pollack thriller, just with a mechanically winged paratrooper and a super-powered, metal-armed assassin added in for fun. The result is a gripping and exciting mishmash of resonant political paranoia and special effects blockbusting, even if the scales tip a little too much in favour of the latter towards the (nevertheless enjoyable) explosive finale. Phase Two of Marvel’s master-plan continues to impress: Cap worked well on the WWII battlefront; he works even better on the ‘70s conspiracy scene.

Rating: 8/10

Need for Speed - Review

Director: Scott Waugh Writer: George Gatins Studios: DreamWorks Pictures, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Touchstone Pictures, Reliance Entertainment, Electronic Arts, Bandito Brothers Cast: Aaron Paul, Imogen Poots, Scott Mescudi, Dominic Cooper, Ramon Rodriguez, Michael Keaton Release Date (UK): March 12, 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 130 min

And here I thought we’d finally got a good movie based on a video game; turns out “Need for Speed” can’t even top the two best entries in video game-to-movie history, the equally lousy “Prince of Persia” and “Silent Hill” — hardly towering hurdles to leap over, but like a drunk driver trying to avoid a parked car, “Need for Speed” crashes straight into them. Taking its name from the massively popular EA street racing series, Scott Waugh’s action-thriller arrives with promises that it’s a proper old-school actioner with proper old-school stunts and proper old-school action throwbacks; indeed, all of the high-speed mayhem appears to be practically filmed and indeed, early on in the film, the classic ‘60s thriller “Bullitt” is seen playing at a drive-in movie theatre. But although its stunts sure are impressive, this frankly feels like a cheap “Fast and Furious” wannabe. Any gamer going into “Need for Speed” expecting the full-throttle exhilaration of the video game racing series will instead be treated with a film that’s merely diverting in fits and starts.

The problem isn’t Aaron Paul — though this is certainly a step down from his iconic role as Jesse Pinkman in “Breaking Bad,” he has the brooding charm down pat — nor is it the action; in a genre dominated by computer-generated imagery, it’s refreshing seeing an action blockbuster which keeps things wholly practical. The problem is the script, whose characters are so thinly drawn that Scott Mescudi’s character may as well be called “laughing black man in helicopter” and Rami Malek’s character “man who walks around naked for no discernible reason.” Also, the pacing: the story, a rather inert tale of revenge, takes far too long to kick into gear and when it finally does the film moves along at an awfully languid pace. Surprising, considering the title, which after viewing becomes riddled with irony: what should be a fast and furious b-movie has a serious need for speed, plodding along for over two hours, with only some neato driving stunts to hold our attention. This begs the question, will there ever be a good movie based on a video game or will the curse prevail forever? Duncan Jones’ “Warcraft,” you must lift this curse once and for all.

Rating: 5/10

Non-Stop - Review

Director: Jaume Collet-Serra Writers: John W. Richardson, Chris Roach, Ryan Engle Studios: Universal Pictures, Silver Pictures, StudioCanal, York Studios Cast: Liam Neeson, Julianne Moore, Scoot McNairy, Michelle Dockery, Nate Parker, Corey Stoll, Anson Mount, Lupita Nyong’o Release Date (UK): 28 February 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 106 min

File this under “dumb but fun.” “Non-Stop,” the new Liam Neeson action-thriller, is pretty much non-stop stupid. It’s so stupid that Neeson’s character, Bill Marks, is — get this — an air marshal who’s scared of flying. Marks is also a raging alcoholic and his co-marshal is discovered to be smuggling cocaine — if ever there was a film to make us put our utmost trust in air marshals, it ain’t this. I’d trust Air Marshall John from “Bridesmaids” over these two guys any day of the week.

Things get really bonkers when Marks boards a non-stop flight from New York to London, where he starts receiving mysterious texts on a secure network: the texts are from someone threatening to kill a passenger every 20 minutes unless $150 million is transferred to a specific bank account. The texter is true to his word: 20 minutes later, there’s a body in the lavatory. It’s up to Marks, along with the aid of a trusted passenger (a sadly wasted Julianne Moore) and Michelle Dockery’s flight attendant, to figure out who the mystery passenger is before more lives are lost.

As has been said on the film’s press tour, it sounds like the premise of a Hitchcock movie, but truth be told “Non-Stop” is more poppycock than Hitchcock — the villain’s master plan makes zero sense, relying on coincidence after coincidence, and the explosive climax is just plain preposterous. Still, director Jaume Collet-Serra keeps the engine running smoothly and even manages to ratchet up some suspense as Neeson interrogates passengers with varying levels of aggression, and begins to suspect, along with us, that it might all be in his head. It’s Neeson who really sells this, with his grizzled persona and no-nonsense attitude: “Taken” on a plane, it turns out, is much better than “Snakes on a Plane.”

Rating: 6/10

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit - Review

Director: Kenneth Branagh Writers: Adam Cozad, David Koepp Studios: Paramount Pictures, Skydance Productions, di Bonaventura Pictures, Mace Neufeld Productions, Buckaroo Entertainment, Etalon Film, Translux Cast: Chris Pine, Kenneth Branagh, Keira Knightley, Kevin Costner Release Date (UK): 24 January 2014 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 105 min

Though touted as the big reboot of the “Jack Ryan” franchise, “Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit” is technically the third rejig for Tom Clancy’s all-American Cold War super-spy. Originally played by Alec Baldwin in 1990’s “The Hunt for Red October,” he was given a face-lift in 1992, reborn as the grizzled and commanding Harrison Ford for “Patriot Games” and “Clear and Present Danger” and then again in the younger form of Ben Affleck for 2002’s “The Sum of All Fears” (the film everyone remembers for the scene in which a football stadium is nuked to smithereens and not much else). Now Chris Pine steps into Ryan’s boots for what could be considered the “Casino Royale” of the “Jack Ryan” series, a modern-day origin story taking us back to our hero’s first day on the job.

Directed by Kenneth Branagh, “Shadow Recruit” takes us on Ryan’s first mission as a covert CIA analyst: while working undercover at Wall Street he notices some fishy goings-on at the Russian stock market, where trillions of dollars have mysteriously vanished. Travelling to Moscow, he uncovers a terrorist plot headed by crazed Russian oligarch Viktor Cheverin (Branagh), who plans to bomb Manhattan and cripple the US economy. Guided by Kevin Costner's CIA honcho, Ryan works to stop Cheverin before his plan is fulfilled. And as if dodging hitmen and sneaking into badguy headquarters wasn’t enough, Ryan’s girlfriend Cathy (Keira Knightley) turns up out of the blue, suspecting her bf is having an affair, and learns of his secret CIA career.

Branagh brings little to the table that hasn’t been brought before by countless other spy thrillers — like its title, “Shadow Recruit” is awfully generic. Disappointing, given the bang-up job Branagh did in bringing Marvel's “Thor” to the big screen, though on-screen as the aggressively Russian Cheverin he does make for a chillingly intimidating villain. Pine brings to Ryan the same kind of smarts and agility he brought to his Captain Kirk, if less personality — a clearly established character, Jack Ryan’s only weakness! In fact, the whole film seems to be in need of its own identity: there's a bathroom punch-up that seems ripped straight from Bourne, the plot appears to be swiped from an Ian Fleming novel and the film has a general air of blandness that it never quite overcomes. “Shadow Recruit” isn't terrible: it diverts for its runtime and runs smoothly enough. But in the wake of the “Bourne” trilogy and “Skyfall” this is hardly remarkable, too safe and too familiar — maybe another reboot is in order for Jack?

Rating: 5/10

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

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

Escape Plan - Review

Director: Mikael Håfström Writers: Miles Chapman, Jason Keller Studios: Summit Entertainment, Lionsgate, Atmosphere Entertainment, Emmett/Furla Films Cast: Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jim Caviezel, Amy Ryan, Vinnie Jones, Sam Neill, Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson Release Date (UK): 18 October 2013 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 115 min

Sly and Arnie go to prison in “Escape Plan,” a jailhouse thriller which tries to recapture the look and feel of an old-school ’80s actioner with enjoyable, if unsurprising results. Stallone, on typically grizzled form, plays Ray Breslin, a security specialist who claims he can break out of any prison designed by man. Working for the government, it is his job to test out the reliability of maximum security facilities — that is, he enters the joint as an inmate, finds its weak spot and escapes with the aid of such handy tools as sheets of toilet paper, plastic forks and cartons of chocolate milk. Impossibly resourceful, he’s basically MacGyver, Houdini and Rambo all rolled up into one big beefy ball.

But even with those impressive credentials, his latest assignment proves one tough nut to crack: tasked with testing out a top secret, off-the-grid facility, he finds himself locked up in The Tomb, an inescapable, high-tech fortress run by the tyrannical warden Willard Hobbs (Jim Caviezel). There, he meets Schwarzenegger’s enigmatic Emil Rottmayer, a fellow inmate with whom Ray plans a massive break-out when his safe word, i.e. his Get Out of Jail Free card, is ignored by the warden — but escape isn’t going to be so easy this time round.

Highlights of “Escape Plan” include Schwarzenegger frantically screaming the Lord’s Prayer in his native German tongue (the first time Arnie has sprechen Deutsch on the big screen) and the multiple trips to the dreaded Box, a cramped torture chamber in which convicts sit and sweat while blinded by a blazing light. The plot is preposterous and the script could’ve been sharper (the most memorable line is Schwarzenegger’s rather tame “You hit like a vegetarian!”), but take it on its own terms and the film works as diverting, undemanding popcorn entertainment. Old dogs Sly and Arnie, back to their old tricks, prove a highly watchable double act and a formidable action hero team-up — as if we needed further proof, this pair of ageing, 65+ meatheads show themselves to be far from their sell-by date.

Rating: 6/10

Gravity - Review

Director: Alfonso Cuarón Writers: Alfonso Cuarón, Jonás Cuarón Studios: Warner Bros. Pictures, Esperanto Filmoj, Heyday Films Cast: Sandra Bullock, George Clooney Release Date (UK): 7 November 2013 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 91 min

Right, first thing’s first, let’s get the inevitable space-based puns out of the way: “Gravity,” a new thriller about a pair of astronauts trapped in space after a routine shuttle mission goes disastrously awry, is out of this world. A stellar expedition, it will pull you in, it will take your breath away, it will have you moonwalking out of the auditorium with astronomical glee and yes, it will send you hurtling, starry-eyed, over the moon.

Phew. Now that I’ve got that out of my system, let me tell you, dear reader, about this extraordinary new movie from “Children of Men” and “Prisoner of Azkaban” director Alfonso Cuarón. “Gravity” is, in a word, amazing: truly and utterly amazing in its ability to wow an audience, to grip them with a simple but uniquely terrifying story and to stun them into complete silence. Set in outer space for almost the entirety of its runtime and utterly convincing in its zero-gravity physics, it’s a staggering feat not just in visual effects but also in blockbuster movie-making. I spent much of it with my jaw at my ankles and the rest with my brain exploding out of my ears. Those puns weren’t lying: “Gravity” is a blast and a half — and then some.

The viscerality of this thing is incredible: here we are, stranded in the black, unending vastness of space with Sandra Bullock’s inexperienced mission specialist Dr. Ryan Stone and George Clooney’s long-serving astronaut Matt Kowalski. With crystal clarity, we can hear every word they speak and every gasp for breath they take inside the helmets of their NASA space suits, heightened by the eerie absence of external noise: scientifically accurate, “Gravity” stays true to the reality that in space, there is no sound (and where, as the poster for “Alien” famously remarked, no one can hear you scream). Doing most of the gasping is Bullock, a rookie on her first outer space mission who is guided along by Clooney’s calm and collected veteran when things take a terrifying turn for the worst: debris strikes and destroys their shuttle, leaving them adrift over 370 miles above the Earth’s surface.

Tethered together by a cord which, in one bravura sequence of many, ends up snapping in two, and communicating through their in-helmet headsets, Bullock and Clooney must fight for survival in this boundless, zero-gravity environment if they are to ever get back down to Earth. Both share a warm dynamic — officially the coolest man in space, Clooney calms Bullock's panicking Dr. Stone with humour and casual conversation, keeping her mind distracted and at ease — but really, this is Bullock’s story: we are by her side for damn near the film’s whole length, her increasing confidence gives the film its heart and the inspired rebirth parables (as sparked by the beautiful, striking sight of a floating Bullock curling up into the foetal position) revolve around her. It is to Bullock’s credit that even with little character information we are absolutely with her every step of the way — she’s an endearing screen presence and her frightened, heartfelt performance is one of the best of the year.

However, quite frankly, “Gravity” absolutely belongs to Cuarón. Known for his love of ambitious single shots — the unblinking 7-minute battlefield set-piece in his dystopian masterpiece “Children of Men” still wows seven years later — the visionary Mexican filmmaker takes himself to the limit here, and pushes himself beyond. With sublime elegance, his camera hurtles between debris, whirls around the floating destruction and seamlessly moves in and out of Bullock’s helmet with not one visible cut in sequences that must last, ooh, I actually lost track. To say that the film is a technical marvel would be putting it lightly — over 48 hours since it ended, I’m still doing this:

Other technical triumphs come from Steven Price’s unnerving score, the astonishing visual effects and Emmanuel Lubezki’s luscious, spellbinding cinematography — as Clooney’s character remarks, you can’t beat that view. The film is presented in 3D, which is perhaps unnecessary, but like in “Avatar” and “Life of Pi,” it does add an extra oomph of immersion — I’ll admit that, like a child, I flinched when debris was flung towards the camera lens. Regardless of the format, “Gravity" is an incredible, unmissable experience which may single-handedly rejuvenate your faith in the power of cinema: its power to amaze, to dazzle and to conjure an overwhelming sense of pure, childlike wonder. Go see “Gravity:” see it on the big screen, see it in IMAX, see it in 3D or see it in 2D — just go see it and bask in its breathtaking, eye-popping awesomeness. Trust me on this: you won’t regret the trip.

Rating: 10/10

Getaway - Review

Director: Courtney Solomon Writers: Sean Finegan, Gregg Maxwell Parker Studios: Warner Bros. Pictures, Dark Castle Entertainment, Signature Entertainment, After Dark Films, Silver Reel Cast: Ethan Hawke, Selena Gomez, Jon Voight, Rebecca Budig Release Date (UK): TBC Certificate: TBC Runtime: 90 min

The sheer, head-banging monotony of action-thriller “Getaway” cannot be described in words — but I’m going to try. Imagine, if you will, the 3-minute car chase from “The Bourne Identity” — the one with Matt Damon evading the French authorities by driving a Mini Cooper through the streets of Paris — drawn out to 90 minutes, but somehow more tedious and more exasperating than that viewing experience sounds. Or, better yet, go to your kitchen, find a cooking pot and a rolling pin, place the pot on your head and bash the rolling pin against the side of the pot for an hour and a half. My condolences: you just watched “Getaway.”

It’s directed by Courtney Solomon, and it might surprise you to hear that it’s his best film so far: or at least it might surprise you until you discover his only other films are the 2000 fantasy stinker “Dungeons & Dragons” and the 2005 horror snoozer “An American Haunting.” At least he’s improving. The plot centres on retired race-car driver Brent Magna, played by Ethan Hawke, whose wife is kidnapped from their home in Sofia, Bulgaria. If he is to ever see his wife again, Magna must drive around the Bulgarian capital in a stolen Mustang and do everything a mysterious voice tells him over the car’s built-in phone system. On the other end of the line is an unseen Jon Voight, who barks, in a silly Eurotrash voice, “Do vat I say or I vill keel your vife!” over and over again.

The orders of Voight mostly have Hawke speeding down the street, deliberately crashing into random objects and outdriving the police. Basically, the film is one big extended car crash — in more ways than the filmmakers intended. As the movie progressed, I lost count of the amount of shots of Hawke shifting gears, spinning the wheel and turning his head. I also lost track of the amount of times Hawke is startled to hear police sirens start blaring behind him — I can’t imagine why he’s startled, it’s already happened about 15 times since the movie began.

The film’s fatal error — one of many errors — is in not establishing even the slightest hint of a relationship between Hawke and his abducted wife, giving us no reason to care nor indeed stay to the end credits. Hawke’s screentime with bland teen hacker sidekick Selena Gomez, the original owner of Hawke’s stolen supercar who stumbles into this mess when she tries to steal it back, certainly doesn’t make up. Even when Hawke and his wife are reunited towards the film’s end, she’s swiftly thrown to the side for (you’ll never guess what) another car chase. The only thing that should keep viewers awake at this point is the constant crashing and smashing and vrooms and wheeees. Even with all the noise, I could feel myself nodding off.

When it was released in the States, “Getaway” received an almighty kicking from the critics. Look, for example, at Metacritic, where it boasts a pathetic rating of 22/100, or at Rotten Tomatoes, where the percentage of critics who have awarded the film a positive review currently stands at a miserable 3%. Notably, Jon Voight, a disembodied voice for the majority of the runtime, doesn’t show his face until the film’s final two seconds. I can’t say I blame him.

Rating: 3/10

Prisoners - Review

Director: Denis Villeneuve Writer: Aaron Guzikowski Studios: Warner Bros., Alcon Entertainment Cast: Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Viola Davis, Maria Bello, Terrence Howard, Melissa Leo, Paul Dano Release Date (UK): 27 September 2013 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 153 min

Two six-year-old girls vanish without a trace from their Pennsylvania neighbourhood during Thanksgiving dinner. Apparently kidnapped, they are nowhere to be found, the only clue to their whereabouts being the RV that was parked on the street before the girls went missing. The sole suspect (Paul Dano), the mentally challenged owner of the RV who attempts to flee when approached by authorities, is clearly hiding something, but is released from police custody due to lack of evidence. Desperate, the father of one of the girls (Hugh Jackman) decides to take matters into his own hands, defying the orders of head investigator Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal) and resorting to extreme measures to find his daughter before it’s too late.

This is the story of “Prisoners,” a crime thriller that grips right from its haunting opening, where parental panic takes a sharp turn into abject horror: a child abducted on the street, a parent’s worst nightmare realised in full. Flaunting the epic length of David Fincher’s underseen “Zodiac,” in which Gyllenhaal was also on the hunt for a killer, and the chillingly atmospheric cinematography of the legendary Roger Deakins, director Denis Villeneuve’s sprawling kidnap drama is an enthralling and challenging exploration into how violence inevitably begets more violence and how the only outcome of evil is more evil.

The film is harrowing in ways that are expected and ways that are unexpected. If you’ve seen the trailers, you’ll know some of the unexpected ways. Emotional and moral complexities entangle the narrative as Jackman’s Keller Dover hunts for information, committing ethically questionable acts that spiral hideously into cold-blooded monstrousness and which are sure to have viewers recoiling in horror while shifting their sympathies. If Kathryn Bigelow's controversial “Zero Dark Thirty” supposedly endorsed torture (it didn’t), then “Prisoners” absolutely condemns it, showing it for the evil that it is: a cowardly act of desperation that dehumanises all involved, all the while wielding no worthwhile results.

At the film’s centre are two outstanding performances from Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal, both obsessed with finding young Anna and Joy, one operating on the right side of the law, the other on the wrong. Jackman, recently superb in “Les Misérables,” perfectly portrays the mental anguish and helplessness of not knowing where your children are, not knowing if they’re safe and indeed not knowing if they’re even alive. More mysterious is Gyllenhaal, whose twitchy Detective Loki is driven to obsession in his impossible mission to locate the two abducted girls and identify their kidnapper. Loki is one of the great film detectives, troubled and enigmatic but strangely likeable, and endearingly driven in his commitment to justice.

That the film’s final third or so, in which all is finally revealed, feels slightly generic speaks only of the power and strength of the rest of the movie. This is a great crime thriller: intelligent, complex and utterly captivating, and which can pride itself as one of the best films of the year so far.

Rating: 9/10

The Call - Review

Director: Brad Anderson Writer: Richard D'Ovidio Studios: TriStar Pictures, Troika Pictures, WWE Studios, Stage 6 Films Cast: Halle Berry, Abigail Breslin, Morris Chestnut, Michael Eklund Release Date (UK): 20 September 2013 Certificate: 15 Runtime: 94 min

Kidnap thriller “The Call,” from “The Machinist” director Brad Anderson, gets off to a good, suspenseful start thanks to a clever concept and efficient thrills before its moronic finale shoots itself in the foot and then, in its final few moments, blows its brains out for good measure. Set in the hectic, unpredictable world of 911 operators, it stars Halle Berry as veteran L.A. operator Jordan, who has a particularly eventful day when she takes an emergency call from teenager Casey (“Little Miss Sunshine”’s Abigail Breslin, all grown up). Casey has been abducted by a stranger in a shopping mall parking lot and is calling on a mobile phone from the trunk of a car. The car is moving, the trunk is locked and she is trapped with only her untraceable phone, and Jordan on the other end of the line, to save her.

So begins a race against the clock to track down Casey’s ever-changing location and rescue her before her abductor, sick-minded Norman Bates wannabe Michael (Michael Eklund), reaches his destination. This part of the movie is tense, Anderson ratcheting up the suspense with futile escape attempts and increasingly violent threats from madman Michael, while cutting back and forth between Jordan and Casey as they frantically scheme to get the latter back to safety. Berry, eyes wide and ear pressed against her headset, adds sufficient dramatic weight to the proceedings as the determined but fragile 911 operator whose voice is Casey’s guide throughout her traumatic ordeal, while 17-year-old Breslin, either crammed in a trunk or strapped to a chair for much of the film, is sympathetic but strong as the helpless teen victim.

It’s nail-biting stuff, or at least it is for the first two thirds of the runtime — unfortunately, in its final third, when the film stupidly ditches the simple but fresh premise of 911 operator and caller having to work together over the phone, and Berry puts down the phone to go do some hands-on detective work of her own, the whole thing nose-dives into a hopelessly generic “Silence of the Lambs” copycat — the climax is laughably implausible and stuffed full of hackneyed genre clichés, e.g. creeping in the dark of a basement and peeping out from behind closet doors. Worse still, the film ends on a disastrously misjudged note of vengeful sadism that wouldn’t feel out of place in a “Saw” movie. Not just out of character for our heroine, the final 60 seconds are also out of character for the film, and, along with the rest of the climax, manage to spoil an otherwise neat little thriller that should’ve stuck to its killer concept — you shouldn’t have hung up the phone, movie.

Rating: 5/10

White House Down - Review

Director: Roland Emmerich Writer: James Vanderbilt Studios: Columbia Pictures, Centropolis Entertainment, Mythology Entertainment Cast: Channing Tatum, Jamie Foxx, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Jason Clarke, Richard Jenkins, James Woods Release Date (UK): 13 September 2013 Certificate: 12A Runtime: 131 min

The last time gun-toting terrorists tried to take over the White House on the cinema screen, they had ex-Secret Service agent and John McClane wannabe Gerard Butler to tussle with in April actioner “Olympus Has Fallen” — the film everyone rightly dubbed “Die Hard in the White House.” Now, in cinematic doppelgänger “White House Down,” they’re pitted against Channing Tatum, who dares comparison with Bruce Willis’ wise-cracking Jersey cowboy even further by sporting McClane’s iconic manky wife-beater as he guns down the terrorist scumbags one by one.

Directed by disaster movie maestro Roland Emmerich, whose previous trip to 1600 Penn in the cheese-tastic “Independence Day” proved memorably explosive, it stars Tatum as John Cale, bodyguard to Speaker of the House Eli Raphelson (Richard Jenkins) and aspiring Secret Service man. While John takes a tour of the White House with his brainbox daughter Emily (Joey King, adorable), the building is stormed by a team of mercenaries led by former Special Forces operative Emil Stenz (Jason Clarke) as they act out a plan masterminded by treacherous Head of the Presidential Detail Martin Walker (James Woods). With the White House under siege and his daughter among the hostages, it’s up to John to single-handedly stop the bastards before they gain access to nuclear launch codes — albeit with a little help from Jamie Foxx’s bazooka-blasting President of the United States.

Like “Olympus Has Fallen,” “White House Down” can pride itself as a better “Die Hard” movie than the actual “Die Hard” movie released this year: while ol’ Brucie wreaks noisy, head-thumping havoc in the streets of Moscow, Butler and Tatum have much more fun battling badguys in the tight confines of the Presidential Palace. Of the two, “White House Down” is for me the better film: Tatum, to whom I’ve very much warmed after “Magic Mike” and “21 Jump Street,” continues to grow in star charisma, and the film has a likeable, goofy sense of humour as opposed to “Olympus Has Fallen”’s grim self-seriousness.

The plot is, of course, utterly ludicrous, reaching the pinnacle of lunacy when Foxx’s supposedly noble Leader of the Free World hangs out the side of a speeding Presidential limo while firing a rocket launcher on the White House front lawn. But the film works on the level of a dumb but breezily entertaining big-budget B-movie which shamelessly mimics “Die Hard”’s rock-solid premise — wrong guy in the wrong place at the wrong time — and carries it out better than bored Willis himself can these days. It’s nice to have a John McClane in 2013 who looks like he actually gives a damn.

Rating: 6/10