Same Time, Next Year

Cine Review: ONE DAY
12A – 107mins – 2011
Screenplay by: David Nicholls
Adapted from his 2009 novel of the same name
Directed by: Lone Scherfig
Starring: Anne Hathaway, Jim Sturgess, Romola Garai, Rafe Spall, Ken Stott, Patricia Clarkson, Jodie Whittaker, Jamie Sives, Georgina King, Matt Berry, Matthew Beard
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Oxford students Emma (Anne Hathaway) and Dexter (Jim Sturgess) meet – and very nearly have a one night stand – on the night of their university graduation in 1988. Emma is a quiet but sincere Yorkshire lass whilst Dexter is an ostentatious cad with an eye for the fairer sex, and yet, against all odds, a lifelong friendship is formed on that July night, one which we revisit on the same date every year for the next two decades.

As the years roll by, fashions change, fortunes deviate, jobs, lovers and acquaintances come and go, but Emma and Dex endeavour to remain in contact. Alas, sometimes life gets in the way of even the strongest bonds, and we come to fill in the gaps of the tumultuous, tragic and touching rollercoaster that is their “will they/won’t they?” relationship by way of our snapshot glimpses into these growing – but not necessarily maturing – young adults.

The fact that Danish director Lone An Education Scherfig begins her filmic conversion of David Nicholl’s bestselling novel with a seemingly innocuous bike ride in 2006 before spooling back to the catalytic first encounter, clues us in to the palpable significance of this year, so we are consciously counting down until its return with a pervading sense of expectant foreboding. Of course, if you’ve read the book you’re already prepared, but the on-screen impact is still heart-wrenching to behold.

Much criticism has been flung at Hathaway for her attempt at a northern accent, and while it does vary in its strength – occasionally even making her sound like she is imitating an upper class stereotype – it was never so inexcusably painful as to distract from the engaging love story unravelling before us. Jim Sturgess, who I had little prior awareness of, was a revelation as Dexter, a man who has a brush with small-time fame before dive-bombing into the depths of despair.


In a CR@B Shell: As a sharply-focused but far-reaching character-driven drama, One Day’s potency lies in its full-bodied and relatable individual arcs. David Nicholls incorporates the full spectrum of life, love and loss into a compassionate and authentic romance which gives you faith in love conquering all even when time pulls you in divergent directions.
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Embrace the Suck

Blu Review: BEASTLY
12 – 87mins – 2011
Screenplay by: Daniel Barnz
Based on the novel by: Alex Fynn
Directed by: Daniel Barnz
Starring: Vanessa Hudgens, Alex Pettyfer, Mary Kate Olsen, Neil Patrick Harris, Lisa Gay Hamilton, Peter Krause, Dakota Johnson, Erik Knudson
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An adaptation of a retelling of an animation of a classic tale, or – to put it simply – Beauty and the Beast Y2K. Loosely based on Alex Fynn's 2007 novel of the same name, Daniel Barnz's Beastly retains the immortal “beauty isn't skin deep” message – and recurring rose motif – from its renowned fairytale inspiration, but trades enchanted castles for modern day NYC, a sing-song soundtrack for Lady GaGa choons, fur and fangs for tattoos and scars, and peppers the whole affair in excruciating faddish slang such as “hatchet-face”, “a-holien”, “lame core” and “wonk”. Needless to say, this version won't still be enamoured by millions in years to come. But look out for it in the bargain bin in a couple of months.

“People like people who look good. Everyone who disagrees is either dumb or ugly.”

That's Kyle Kingson's (I Am Number Four's Pettyfer) mantra. Spoiled, shallow, spiteful, vain and arrogant, he's nevertheless “king” of Buckston Academy High School and always gets his way. Because his dad (Six Feet Under's Krause) is a rich and famous news anchor and Kyle is easy on the eye - but not for long.... After being humiliated by the rude jerk for the last time, gothic witch and fellow student Kendra (Olsen) casts a spell on Kyle which makes him as ugly on the outside as he is within. To break the curse, the freaky new-look Kyle must get a girl to love the beauty in the beast within one year, or look like a monster for the rest of his life.

That's not exactly the easiest ask when you “look like a victim in a slasher flick” and your equally superficial dad (like father, like son) pulls you out of school (“Rehab”) and hides you away from the world in an out-of-town prison– sorry, apartment, with only an ever-loyal maid (Hamilton) and a blind tutor (How I Met Your Mother's Harris) for company. Lonely, ashamed and depressed, Kyle sets his sights on former classmate Lindy (Sucker Punch's Hudgens), but he can't face confronting her for fear his aberrant appearance will scare her away.

On a self-pitying late night stroll through the city (hood up, face down), Kyle comes to the rescue when Lindy's addict father (LaFortune) is confronted by his debt collecting dealers. Unable to stop the troubled man from shooting one of the drug peddlers, Kyle blackmails him into agreeing to let his daughter stay in Kyle's secret hideaway to keep her veiled from the vengeful dealer who got away. But, of course, Kyle has another reason for wanting Lindy to be close to him, even if she isn't initially too happy about being sold to a "stranger".

The blossoming romance between beauty and the beast is sweet enough, if a little rushed (the seasons fly by with only leaves falling from the trees as an indication that time is passing), but Hudgens is too attractive for the role of Lindy, whose literary alter-ego has red hair and crooked teeth but is, you've guessed it, beautiful on the inside. Truth be told, Hudgens, is far cuter than Kyle's fair-weather ice queen girlfriend (Johnson), which contradicts the film's message and makes you wonder why he ignored her for so long before his transformation.

Deformed though he may be, Pettyfer isn't totally unrecognisable under his ink and prosthetics, yet we are meant to believe that even when Lindy sees “Hunter” (as Kyle takes to calling himself post-curse) she never questions his resemblance to the popular hunk from school who, coincidentally, has been absent for some months. It irks (akin to how nobody realises that Clark Kent without glasses is Superman), as does the insensitive way in which Lindy comes to stay in Kyle's apartment, but neither issue was as detrimental to my enjoyment as Beastly's continual attempts to be hip, happenin' and appealing to the teens of today. As I touched on above, the abbreviated lingo verges on incomprehensible at times (particularly in the first twenty or so minutes) while the contemporary soundtrack just feels shamelessly contrived and intrusive. Now that's lame core.

We all know the story, so we all know how Beastly ends: Happily ever after, of course, but the upcoming DVD and Blu-ray release (due in the UK on August 29th) includes a rather lengthy alternative ending which sticks much closer to Fynn's novel. My initial reaction was that I preferred it to Barnz's re-written conclusion, however I soon realised that it over-complicated the plot by bringing back one too many elements from earlier in the film at a time when the story needed clarity, not confusion.


In a CR@B Shell: A timeless love story is buried beneath a trendy try-hard surface; how ironic for a film about looking beyond the surface. Unfortunately, unlike Lindy I just couldn't get beyond Beastly's aesthetic flaws, and despite warming to certain elements I ultimately didn't fall in love with Daniel Barnz's youth-targeted refurb. Call me shallow if you must – but please don't curse me!
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High School Hideout

DVD Review: I AM NUMBER FOUR
12 – 109mins – 2011
Screenplay by: Alfred Gough, Miles Millar and Marti Noxon
Based on the novel by: Pittacus Lore
Directed by: D.J. Caruso
Starring: Alex Pettyfer, Timothy Olyphant, Dianna Argon, Teresa Palmer, Callan McAuliffe, Kevin Durand, Jake Abel, Jeff Hochendoner
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[SPOILERS] Some books are just too friggin' complicated for the big screen treatment. Michael Winterbottom and Steve Coogan poked irreverent fun at the subject with A Cock and Bull Story, their metafictional take on Laurence Sterne's 18th century novel Tristam Shandy, while the mammoth The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King still required a gazillion endings and over 260minutes to wrap up J.R.R. Tolkein's concluding opus.

Pittacus Lore's 2010 young adult sci-fi fantasy novel – the first in a proposed six book series, no less – may not be in the same epic league as my above chosen examples, but it is extremely popular in today's heavily-diluted Y.A. market and the fight for the film rights ended in a bidding war for the must-have property. Having not read the source material (humorously promoted as "Twilight for boys"), there were times during director D.J. Disturbia Caruso's frenetic adap when I was seriously struggling to comprehend what the hell was going on!

Stormbreaker's Alex Pettyfer plays teen “John Smith”, an alien from the planet Lorian who, alongside eight other humanoid refugees, is in hiding on Earth from a gang of bounty hunting Mogadorians; the hideous tattooed extra terrestrials who destroyed Lorian and are now slaying the nine who escaped. In order. Maybe I missed why there must be an order to the deaths, but there is. Three have already been murder. “John”, as the title implies, is Number Four.

Accompanied by his tech-savvy guardian, Henri (The Crazies' Olyphant), “John” is forced to leave his Florida beach house and relocate to the sleepy Ohio town of Paradise, where he poses as a high school student and – despite Henri's instructions to stay lowkey and not attract any attention which may betray their location to the “Mogs” – “John” befriends gawky conspiracy theorist Sam (McAuliffe), falls in love with sweet-natured photographer Sarah (Argon) and fends off block-headed bully cliché Mark (Abel).

Meanwhile, a lizard morphs into a dog whom “John” adopts, Henri hides an alien relic in their grandfather clock, a mysterious blonde (Palmer) is on “John's” heels blowing everything up, the “Mogs” continue their hunt whilst shopping for enough food to feed the *something* they have contained in the back of a truck, oh, and “John” learns he has all manner of superpowers (known as “legacies”, because what we needed was more jargon) – such as extreme strength, agility and telekinesis – which he struggles to keep under wraps because light keeps shining from his hands.

The more sedate character-building scenes set at the school are amiable enough, mainly because Argon is cute, but the jock/bully subplot is as embarrassingly trite as Number Four using the timeworn pseudonym “John Smith”, while the way eager-beaver Sam is roped into the alien war is ridiculously complex and complicated (some tosh about his supposedly abducted father having worked out years ago that the Lorians had come to Earth).

When the “Mogs” – a dreadful abbreviation to a stupid mouthful of a word – eventually do track down Henri and Number Four (via yet another complex and complicated method of hoodwinking some online conspiracy nuts into luring the good guys to their house), producer Michael Transformers Bay's influence is clear as the CGI fireworks are set off in spectacularly busy fashion. “John's” dog morphs into a giant furry beast who fights off the winged creature let loose from the “Mogs'” truck, while “John”, Sam, Sarah and Palmer's mystery blonde (who reveals herself as the vengeful Number Six) run around the school trying not to be captured.

It's all just a bit of a headache, really, with a cavalcade of ideas which probably worked fairly well when interwoven into a 440page novel crammed into a confusing hour and forty-five minutes. It also niggled me how late it was left before Number Six revealed herself and the dog showed its monstrous true form; there are only so many teasing cutaways I can take before I want the plot to progress. I'm sure their was a reason for everything, but a lot of the action just came off as senseless (the prologue, in particular was too dark to discern anything), while a number of plot holes (such as why the overprotective Henri didn't look for John when he didn't answer three of his phone calls) shone as brightly as “John's” hands.


In a CR@B Shell: I can't accuse it of being boring, but I just found too many faults with this hokey big screen blockbuster to be entertained by everything that was thrown our way. Bit of a shame, really, but if they ever put the sequel into production (money talks, after all) it may help to expand upon and smooth over I Am Number Four's disparaging plotholes.
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Beauty and the Freak

Blu Review: BATMAN RETURNS
15 – 126mins – 1992
Story by: Daniel Waters and Sam Hamm
Screenplay by: Daniel Waters
Based on the characters created by: Bob Kane
Directed by: Tim Burton
Starring: Michael Keaton, Danny DeVito, Michelle Pfeiffer, Christopher Walken, Michael Gough, Michael Murphy, Cristi Conway, Andrew Bryniarski, Pat Hingle, Vincent Schiavell, Paul Reubens, Diana Salinger
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Regarded – for as long as memory serves – as my favourite of the six Batman motion pictures to date (yeah, I'd even go so far as to place it above Christopher Nolan's efforts), 1992's first sequel, Returns, did little to lessen my preference on a recent Blu-ray re-watch. The snow-steeped, washed out Gotham backdrop and Christmas setting perfectly juxtapose the pitch black plot which is so dark it's sinister – but nevertheless a Bat-load of macabre fun, too.

Favouring a gothic fairytale introduction for the film's iconic dual foes – deformed, sewer-raised “The Penguin” (DeVito) and murdered temptress “Catwoman” (Pfeiffer) – to a Batman-powered narrative, it is interesting to note that Bruce Wayne (Keaton) barely features in the opening 30minutes, merely watching from the sideline of his dank Batcave HQ as the concrete metropolis overhead is ambushed by corruption, madness and anarchy during a season of supposed goodwill.

Michael Beetlejuice Keaton, nevertheless, is superb in both lead roles, endowing the Dark Knight with steely menace while softening the resolve to a more humane (yet still astute) businessman when playing Bruce Wayne. He treds the line between reflective mourning and enterprising respect flawlessly.

It's hard to believe that a woman as attractive as Michelle Pfeiffer could be so meek and malleable as downtrodden plain Jane secretary Selina Kyle, but she's every inch the feisty bitch as the resurrected leather-clad revolutionary. Christopher Walken, as her shameless and sinful boss Max Schreck, is an off the wall pantomime villain as the silver-haired manipulative schemer who the public blindly believes to be a saviour to their city. It's refreshing to see a comic book film depict a “real world” miscreant who doesn't don a disguise to carry out his underhand bidding.

But the star of the show, unquestionably, is Danny DeVito who truly is orphaned mutant Oswald Cobblepot. Thanks to some ingenious make up design which accentuates his shallow eyes, beaked nose, squat, waddling form and flippered limbs he really is a slimy, grotesque creation who gets under your skin – none more so than when he holds a pitying Gotham in the palm of his flipper and is persuaded by Max to run for Mayor. The scene in which he jumps a sycophantic do-gooder and bites his nose after feasting on a rotting fish is nauseatingly gleeful.

But despite wallowing in darkness, Tim Burton's eerie sequel is still intrinsically a comic book adaptation, albeit it one for an older audience than Joel Schumacher's latter goofiness (Batman Forever and Batman & Robin). The Penguin's kooky arsenal of dangerous umbrellas, his army of aquatic birds and circus misfits, the Batmobile's novel solution to dead-ends and Selina Kyle's supernatural personality transplant after being nibbled back to life by the animals who gave her more time than humanity ever did, are all testament to Returns' kooky cartoon quality which never falls into the trap of camp ridiculousness which eventually derailed the franchise.


In a CR@B Shell: The Dark Knight returns in a back seat role to his powerhouse enemies. But then the shadows are where Batman works best and his lack of screen time is in no way an indication of weakness. A trio of strong headliners, a leftfield maestro in Walken and a stylistically disorientating locale help lift this nihilistic scarytale into a rollicking and high-flying comic book cape-r.
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Riddle Me That

Blu Review: BATMAN FOREVER
12 – 121mins – 1995
Story by: Lee Batchler and Janet Scott-Batchler
Screenplay by: Lee Batchler, Janet Scott-Batchler and Akiva Goldsman
Based on the characters created by: Bob Kane and Bill Finger
Directed by: Joel Schumacher
Starring: Val Kilmer, Tommy Lee Jones, Jim Carrey, Nicole Kidman, Chris O’Donnell, Michael Gough, Pat Hingle, Drew Barrymore, Debi Mazar, Ed Begley Jnr.
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Congratulations to Ian Montgomery for deciphering the correct answer to my prior-posted riddle (reacquaint yourselves HERE); alas, I've no prize to give away except the pride for being right. The rather obvious answer was, of course, Batman Forever, and my microcosmic brain-teaser ushers in the second in my sporadic and unchronological blitz through Bat flicks old and new which I began last month with Batman & Robin (read my long-but-fair review HERE, if you dare!).

The second sequel to Tim Burton’s 1989 gothic big screen introduction, Forever is unofficially regarded as the beginning of the end of the first anthology of Bat-busters: Burton was reduced to producer and Joel Schumacher brought in as director because studio heads at Warner Bros. were concerned that 1992’s Returns was too dark and the mood needed lightening (a decision they thoroughly regretted some two years later when B&R’s dire reception lead to the canning of proposed fifth film Batman Triumphant).

Previous lead Michael Keaton (wisely) jumped ship and Val Kilmer was brought in – without reading the script in must be noted, leading to many an on-set conflict and the need to replace him for B&R – as the billionaire with a penchant for violent do-gooding. Despite playing Harvey Dent in Batman, Billy Dee Williams wasn’t even considered for the role of the disfigured D.A. “Two Face” here, the dubious honour instead going to Tommy Lee Jones. Michael Gough as butler Alfred and Pat Hingle as Commissioner Gordon returned as reassurance that we are still in the same diegetic universe.

Prior to my rewatching of Batman & Robin, I did actually attempt to watch Forever first, sticking on the disc one evening in the hope of rekindling my childhood love of the film. I say attempt because I didn’t even get beyond eccentric inventor Edward Nygma’s (Jim Carrey) brain-draining murder of his boss, Fred Stickley (Ed Begley Jnr.), before my irritation reached fever pitch and I turned it off. The juxtaposition between moody and mad just didn’t sit well with me – at least B&R knew it was camp frivolity and never attempted to be anything else, whereas I found Forever to be awkwardly stuck between darkness and lighthearted.

Last week, however, I prepared myself and made it all the way through. In fact, I re-evaluated my exasperation because I realised how ironically apt it is that a film which deals with a menagerie of duplicitous and delusional wack-jobs is indeed a schizophrenic beast itself. “Two Face” is the literal visualisation of this juxtaposition, but Edward Nygma is also a genius with an unpredictably psychotic alter ego in “The Riddler”, and Bruce Wayne himself is a respected businessman who plays vigilante superhero dressed as a giant Bat. It’s no wonder a psychologist (Kidman's Dr. Chase Meridian) is playing the love interest with all these dual natures running rampant!

Fans bemoaned the bringing in of orphan Dick Grayson, AKA. sidekick Robin (Chris O’Donnell) – particularly because O’Donnell was too old for the “Boy Wonder” role – but I think this was handled well, even if it could be argued that Batman works better alone and doesn’t need a kid to assist him! The circus-based murder of Dick’s family at the hands of “Two Face” nicely mirrored Bruce’s pain of watching his own parent’s being shot down, while dressing the Flying Grayson’s in the same garish outfit which the camp 60’s TV version of Robin donned was a neat little in-joke (so too the tongue-in-cheek line “Holey rusted metal, Batman!”).

While the age-old movie complaint of “How the hell could these people afford all this equipment, costumes and interior renovations?!” does diminish the believability of The Riddler’s elaborate plan to drain Gotham’s brain-power and harness it for himself using his hi-tech Nymatech headgear (seriously, the giant construction and climactic island locale just appeared out of nowhere, already constructed and fully operational), but a number of vast script alterations mid-production did cut the film from a bum-numbing 2hours 40mins to the 121minute mark, so it is likely that a lot of exposition was lost in the chop.

Whether Joel Schumacher’s fabled Director’s Cut (missing from this otherwise decently thorough Blu-ray set) would successfully smooth over the jolts in tone (quipping one liners one minute to mournful moody reflection the next) remains to be seen, but what we are left with isn’t a complete shambles, it just fails to hit the heights of Burton’s pitch-black predecessors while slowly ushering in the toyetic exuberance which temporarily killed off the franchise in a blaze of neon inanity.


In a CR@B Shell: Uneven and dualistic in tone, Batman Forever is neither spectacular nor unwatchable (provided you’re prepared for the change in direction), but it is often awkward in its uncertainty of how sinister or zany to be – a flaw which is just as much the studio’s fault as it is Schumacher’s.
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Tears of a Clone

Cine Review: NEVER LET ME GO
15 – 103mins – 2011
Screenplay by: Alex Garland
Based on the novel by: Kazuo Ishiguro
Directed by: Mark Romanek
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield, Keira Knightley, Isobel Meikle-Small, Charlie Rowe, Ella Purnell, Charlotte Rampling, Sally Hawkins
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[SPOILERS] Akin to Kazuo Ishiguro’s poignant source novel (reviewed HERE), Mark Romanek’s big screen adaptation of Never Let Me Go divides its narrative into the three core stages of its central characters upbringing: Part one gives us a glimpse into the day-to-day life at the mysterious private school of Hailsham, part two sees the teenagers progress into the more relaxed living space of the Cottages, and part three deals with their brief adult lives as carers and donors before “completion” of their sole purpose: organ donation.

The film’s less than vibrant colour palette was impressively faithful to the imprisoning tone of the novel – there are no attempts to add a layer of Hollywood sheen to the drab British countryside setting or austere Hailsham compound – however I was concerned during the opening sequences of the characters as children that the film would fail to capture the many details and idiosyncrasies which made the novel such a compelling delight. Many of the book’s scenes were played out, but in such a hasty fashion as though they had to be included rather than because the director wanted them.

Fortunately, as soon as the children matured into the lead actors, my anxiety faded and I really began to engage with the three friends – Kathy (Mulligan), Ruth (Knightley) and Tommy ( Garfield ) – and their depressing pre-determined path. Much like the grey tones of the landscape, the actors were sensational at discarding their glamour and really embodying these sad, uncertain husks of humanity. Garfield , in particular, completely gave himself over to naïve but kind-hearted Tommy’s nuances.

A lot of people have queried why the conditioned students accept the inevitable and don’t escape the donor system when they leave Hailsham and move to the Cottages, particularly since they have attested to having souls and free will of their own. This is more a “plot hole” (for lack of a more fitting phrase) with the novel than the film, and Alex Garland’s script does attempt to give a visual (if not spoken) explanation in the form of the bracelet detection scanners seen throughout the character’s stages of growth. Big brother is always watching; it is even next to Kathy’s front door as she leaves for the hospital in her late 20’s.

Kathy’s intermittent narration aside, the film cannot even begin to delve as deeply into these characters’s subconscious as Ishiguro’s point-of-view prose does, yet for all its deficiencies, I still felt emotionally attached to the film’s unravelling drama. Admittedly the film is a slower burner, and the fated characters aren’t as radically proactive as they could/should have been, but – maybe because I have already read the novel – I was touched by its moving depiction of life so short and tragic and unfulfilled.


In a CR@B Shell: Heartbreaking and stirring in equal measures, Never Let Me Go may not quite deliver the sumptuous detail of its source novel, but it more than makes up for its early haste by delivering a hard-hitting message through three powerhouse lead performances.
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Wait – I’ve got ANOTHER Life?!!

DVD Review: RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION
15 – 90mins – 2007
Written by: Paul W. S. Anderson
Directed by: Russell Mulcahy
Starring: Milla Jovovich, Oded Fehr, Ali Larter, Iain Glen , Ashanti , Christopher Egan, Spencer Locke, Matthew Marsden, Jason O’Mara, Mike Epps
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Much like the T-virus infected adversaries who litter the streets of Raccoon City and beyond, the Resident Evil film series will just not die. No matter how many rounds of critical lambasting are directed their way, a couple of years later another one will shuffle and groan its way into the cinemas. It’s not even like the game’s fans think the big screen spin-offs hold a dismembered limb to their cherished console classics – so who is keeping this rotten saga lumbering on??

And breathe... Okay, rant over. After all that seething, it may surprise you to learn that Extinction – the third in the four (to date) part series – is my favourite Resident Evil film to date. Admittedly I have yet to see 2010’s Afterlife, but still “favourite” isn’t saying much: the 2002 original and follow up Apocalypse were dismal. And I’m a huge zombie nut. But then we are dealing with director Paul W. S. Anderson here (Alien vs Predator – need I say more?), who is still scribing this series even if he is no longer behind the lens.

I was impressed by the double bluff opening sequence which slickly introduced us to the mysterious “Project Alice” by cloning the original film’s mansion awakening, but once the real-but-psychically-enhanced Alice (Jovovich) – surviving off the grid for some five years since the devastating outbreak – is back to her usual slogging and slaughtering, the film regresses to a generic safe ground: it’s still watchable enough, it just feels so familiar.

The Umbrella Corporation’s aforementioned project – to find a cure for the rabid infection by extracting a genetic serum from clones of Alice – is shown in its experimental stage to humanize the zombies in scenes straight out of George A. Romero’s landmark Day of the Dead, while the clone breeding ground is discovered by Alice in much the same fashion to how Ripley sees a sea of failed test subjects in Alien Resurrection.

On a positive note, the schematic scene changes are stylishly executed, while the infected raven attack sequence is pretty cool (certainly better than the devil dogs, that’s for sure!), but the bulk of Extinction feels like a long-winded red-herring, with Alice joining Claire Redfield’s (Ali Larter) caravan of survivors on a Mad Max-style romp through the desert – only for Alice to drop out of the convoy as soon as the plan is established to head to the Arctic, leaving her free to face-off alone against a genetically mutated scientist (Iain Glen) in a replica of the “big boss” showdown against Nemesis from the last film


In a CR@B Shell: Anderson’s unintentional ode to genre classics is an adequately entertaining if totally unoriginal popcorn horror. Resident Evil: Extinction was everything I expected it to be – because I’d seen many of its core plotlines before.
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"Special" Interest

DVD Review: DINNER FOR SCHMUCKS
12 – 114mins – 2010
Screenplay by: David Guion, Michael Handelman
Based on Le Dîner de Cons, written by: Francis Veber
Directed by: Jay Roach
Starring: Steve Carell, Paul Rudd, Zach Galifianakis, Jermaine Clement, Stephanie Szostak, Lucy Punch, David Walliams, Kristen Shaal, Bruce Greenwood
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Bandwagon-jumping, idea-nabbing Hollywood remakes of cult foreign language films are always at risk of missing the je ne sais quoi which made the originals so exceptional, more interested are they in racking up the A-list stars and splashing the budget on extravagant spectacle. But Jay Roach’s adaptation of Francis Veber's Le Dîner de Cons (1998) was in particular danger of falling flat on its identity-stealing face, given the delicate nature of the French flick’s farcical comedy.

If screenwriters David Guion and Michael Handelman were too gentle on the mean-spirited jibes they would be accused of undercooking the ludicrously disreputable premise, but if they went too far with the pointing and laughing they would tout controversy for picking on easy targets. Consequently, they served up a Dinner which was neither too hot or too cold; playing up the weirdness factor for easy laughs, but downplaying the discrimination by making everyone a schmuck.

Paul Rudd plays mild-mannered Tim, a promotion-desperate business man who is invited to a corporate dinner with a difference. Each employee must bring a “special” guest to the company’s annual “Dinner for Winners”, in a bid to impress the snootily bourgeois executives with the biggest buffoon they can find. See, I wasn’t joking when I used the words “ludicrously disreputable” and “mean-spirited”.

Enter Date Night’s Steve Carell as timid IRS agent Barry, a bespectacled, dead-mouse-diorama-making easy target in an anorak and slacks. A man who – for all his most well-meaning intentions – leaves a trail of utter chaos in his wake. Tim believes Barry is the perfect guest to help him win promotion from his vile, bullying boss (Bruce Greenwood), but over the course of the next 24 hours, simpleton Barry first dismantles Tim’s life, then wins him over with his kind heart and naïve virtuosity.

Predictably, the tasteless dinner provides the menagerie of “idiotic” guests – a blind fencer, a vulture lover, a pet psychic, a beard-growing champion – a chance to turn the tables on the sniggering bigots who look down on them. But for all of the over-the-top absurdities which befall the hapless characters, Carell evokes a sympathetic light on sad sap Barry, and you never catch yourself laughing at him, only with. As such, Dinner of Schmucks never offends like it might so easily have done, with every character coming off as unhinged as any other.

On a final note, the film's comedic cast is particularly remarkable, given its eccentric mixture of cross-Atlantic talent, with Rudd, Carell and The Hangover's Zach Galifianakis rubbing shoulders with the UK's very own David Little Britain Walliams, Chris The IT Crowd O'Dowd and Lucy Vexed Punch. French-born cutie Stephanie Szostak and New Zealand's Jermaine Clements continue the multi-culturally flavoured platter, while the latter's wide-eyed Flight of the Conchords co-star Kristin Shaal also makes a foreseeably kooky turn. But then kooky is the dish of the day at this Dinner.


In a CR@B Shell: Sympathy replaces cruelty in this lightweight remake which revels in its zany ensemble of Schmucks and makes fools of us all, so at least we don't feel quite so guilty about having a giggle.
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Bizarre Attraction

DVD Review: CIRQUE DU FREAK: THE VAMPIRE'S ASSISTANT
12 – 109mins – 2009
Screenplay by: Paul Weitz and Brian Helgeland
Based on the Vampire Blood trilogy by: Darren Shan
Directed by: Paul Weitz
Starring: John C. Reilly, Chris Massoglia, Josh Hutcherson, Jessica Carlson, Patrick Fugit, Michael Cerveris, Ray Stevenson, Ken Watanabe, Kristen Schaal, Orlando Jones, Frankie Faison, Willem Dafoe
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Following my exasperation at what Hollywood had done when reimagining Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising (reviewed HERE) for the 21st century movie-goer, I decided to “go in blind” when watching their celluloid translation of Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant, so I could judge the film for what it is, rather than what it could or should have been; an independent entity separate from its source material.

I have been reliably informed that I made the correct decision, for all manner of major and minor plot, character and chronological edits have left fans of the fantastical prose reeling with disappointment. Pour exemple: uprooting the setting from the UK to US means a cross-Atlantic vacation is obviously dropped, while the protagonist's love interest (Carlson) is reformatted into an adage-spouting circus monkey. Literally. But I, of course, will never know any of this... Not first hand, at any rate.

Based on the opening trio of novels – referred to as the Vampire Blood trilogy – from British author Darren Shan's twelve book teen vamp-chise, this flashy, spectacle-filled adaptation boasts an impressive line-up of big name stars, many of whom are willing to get “f-ed up” (that's freaked up, FYI) with all manner of grisly and peculiar ailments and, er, talents, for all of five minutes screen time.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls: Roll up, roll up and witness for yourself a man with an impossibly small torso (“Alexander Ribs”) who looks like his gut has been eaten away; a bloater who appears to be literally eating for two (“Rhamus Twobellies”); a woman whose jumbo chompers can bite through anything (“Gertha Teeth”); a hairy beast of a bloke (“Wolf Man”); a scaly serpent charmer (“Evra the Snake Boy”); a gal with the power to re-grow appendages (“Corma Limbs”); and no freak show would be complete without a bearded lady who can also predict the future (“Madame Truska”, gamely played by Mexican beauty Salma Hayek).

You're enticed, right? And so you should be. The Vampire's Assistant goes all-out to create a gothic fun house of a show which is far darker – and more verbally blue – than any family friendly fantasy yet. But herein lies the problem which plagues Paul Weitz's film: the weird and wonderful oddities which comprise the travelling freak show of the title are its main draw. They are far more alluring than the reputed star of the show and his independence-attaining plot arc.

Evra: “What kind of freak of you?”
Darren: “Oh, I'm not a freak. I'm normal.”
Evra: “You're normal?”
Darren: “No. I mean, I'm a half vampire, but I'm completely normal”

Arachnid-loving 16 year old Darren (Massoglia) is perhaps a little too normal and too bland to acquire affinity from the audience, so even when he agrees to become blood-sucking gent Larten Crepsley's (Reilly) stooge and leave his family behind in order to save the life of his comatose rebel of a best mate (Hutcherson), you never really feel any sympathy. His family, also, have such a tiny role that their grief at the loss of their eldest born is never conveyed.

And so you watch, dispassionately, as Darren gets sucked into a long-battled civil war between Crepsley's more gentile vampire faction, and their darker, more violent, human-slaughtering blood brothers, the vampaneze. But your only real interest throughout is seeing what manner of bizarre prosthetic and CG abnormality will grace the screen next.

Frankly, that really isn't good enough for a blockbuster franchise kick-starter, is it? And franchise kick-starter The Vampire's Assistant incontestably is, with Willem Dafoe's 'tached vampire general Gavner Purl and rotund curiosity Mr Tiny (Cerveris) servicing the story only by hinting at future events which, sequel-pending, we may never witness off the page.


In a CR@B Shell: Creepy, kooky and all-together loopy, there's definite fun to be had with The Vampire's Assistant, but it's plain to see that the main attraction is far less entertaining than the Cirque's sidelined sideshows.
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Taming His Night Fury

DVD Review: HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON
PG – 94mins – 2010
Screenplay by: Adam F. Goldberg, Peter Tolan, Dean DeBlois, Chris Sanders
Based on the novel by: Cressilda Cowell
Directed by: Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois
Starring the voice talents of: Jay Baruchel, Gerard Butler, Craig Ferguson, America Ferrera, Jonah Hill, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, T. J. Miller, Kristen Wiig, David Tennant
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Despite being initially discouraged by this fantasy adaptation’s overly stylised Lilo and Stitch-meets-Pokémon-esque animation style, a torrent of glowing reviews upon its theatrical roll-out in March roused my interest. Indeed, once you get past the cartoony Vikings and cutesy winged creatures, How to Train Your Dragon is a bright and witty coming-of-age tail which also packs a hefty dramatic punch.

The graphics are first rate, with the aerial shots of protagonist Hiccup (Baruchel) riding his overgrown “pet” Toothless rendered particularly beautifully. The attention to detail - wood grain, barnacles on the longboat’s underbelly, misty mountain ranges and the like - is stunning, even if the character designs are larger than life. But it is the characterisation of these wide-eyed, overgrown Norse warriors and their fire breathing foes which provides this film its flair.

Much to his chieftain father’s (Butler) chagrin, young Hiccup isn’t like all the other brutish dragon slayers in the village of Berk: he’s a designer – and a pacifist. So while his contemporaries – the delightfully named Fishlegs (Mintz-Plasse), Snoutlout (Hill) and twins Ruffnut (Miller) and Tuffnut (Wiig) – and the girl of his dreams, Astrid (Ferrera), are desperate to start combat training to bring down the winged scourge of their village, Hiccup is secretly befriending a “deadly” Night Fury in the forest.

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice star Baruchel has a very distinctive vocal talent which suits weedy-but-endearing Hiccup well, while Butler lends fearless leader Stoick the requisite gravitas; father and son couldn’t be more different, and Stoick’s blatant disappointment in his quirky offspring provides much of the film’s poignancy, as Hiccup’s reverence for Toothless proves far more valuable than the Viking’s traditional “kill first, ask questions never” technique – but will they ever listen to the tribe pariah?

Were I to identify a couple of the film’s weaker elements, then Hiccup’s fellow trainees are effectively worthless, with any attempts at individual identities being more down to their recognisable voices than their minimal impact on the narrative, while love interest Astrid (a character not present in Cressilda Cowell’s source novel) is treated somewhat feebly, shifting from bantering and battling ladette to sweet love-stuck companion the minute Hiccup reveals his Night Fury (it's not as dodgy as it sounds…).

However, a game-changing revelation late in the second act sets up a dramatic and high-octane finale as Hiccup’s father recklessly sets out to undo the “shame” his wayward son has brought upon Berk, with an (un)expected hero swooping in to save the day. Naturally for a family film, many badly informed beliefs are turned around before the credits roll, but it is the verve with which How to Train Your Dragon delivers these life lessons that makes it stand out from the pixelated crop.


In a CR@B Shell: Humorous, adventurous and distinctive, How to Train Your Dragon flies high above the raft of analogous CGI ‘toons due to relatable central characters battling universal themes alongside terrifically flamboyant giant mythical reptiles.
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Faith, Hamlet and Shtick

DVD Review: THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: PRINCE CASPIAN
PG – 148mins – 2008
Screenplay by: Andrew Adamson, Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely
Based on the novel by: C. S. Lewis
Directed by: Andrew Adamson
Starring: Ben Barnes, Georgie Henley, Skandar Keynes, William Moseley, Anna Popplewell, Eddie Izzard, Sergio Castellitto, Peter Dinklage, Ken Stott, Warwick Davis, Liam Neeson, Tilda Swinton
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Being granted the exclusive opportunity to see an advanced screening of Voyage of the Dawn Treader 24hours prior to its release this week (a minor perk of owning a Cineworld Unlimited Card; review to follow), I thought it only right that I should see the threequel in context by finally catching up with the second chronicle in the recently rekindled Narnia saga.

It has been five years since I was underwhelmed by The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in the cinema, but that has such an enduring story that – thanks to the BBC adaptation which I rewatched repeatedly as a child – it will stay with me forever. In contrast, I had absolutely no idea what to expect from Prince Caspian, having ventured no further into either the novel series or BBC broadcasts, except that it took nowhere near enough money at the box office for Disney to desire to continue co-financing the remaining C. S. Lewis stories.

If the trivia section of IMDb is to believed, prior to the filming of this big budget follow up, there were worries from director Andrew Adamson and his co-writing cohorts Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely that the story of Prince Caspian was too talky and lacking in adventurous splendour when compared to Aslan’s (Neeson) Bible-riffing sacrifice and the epic battle against the White Witch (Swinton) in the well-known series opener.

Thus, the resultant feature film may differ vastly from its slimline prose origins, but it certainly doesn’t disappoint when it comes to blockbuster battle scenes, of which there are scores. Indeed, after a slow burn first half which sees the Pevensie siblings transported back to Narnia’s shore, Prince Caspian mounts towards a crescendo of titanic clashes for its final hour, with all manner of creatures showing their worth with a weapon as the submissive Narnian’s join forces with the eponymous Prince (Barnes) to reclaim their land from the invading Telmarine army.

There are definite shades of Shakespeare in the story of a young prince usurped by a jealous uncle who murdered the king to claim the throne (coughHamletcough). Furthermore, I’m not entirely sure why the Telmar’s are all Hispanic (even Brit Barnes adopts a Spanish accent which has apparently been dropped for film three), given that the fact they are humanoid already disassociates them adequately from Narnia’s animal populace, who have been thought extinct in the 1300 years since the royal Pevensie brood returned to war-time London through the wardrobe.

The immense passage of time is perhaps one reason why this return to Aslan’s domain feels entirely disparate to the preceding visit, despite the same cast and crew’s participation (even Tilda Swinton turns up for an ice-entombed cameo). Personally, I always favoured the snow-steeped eternal winter scenes in The Lion..., but the supernatural gloss of the ethereal white landscape all disappeared when the White Witch was defeated and summer returned to New Zealan- I mean, Middle Eart- NARNIA. Sorry, bad hobbi- HABIT!!

Aslan’s role is also far reduced in this sophomore entry, with the God-like lion nothing more than a fabled memory for the faithful to cling onto. Oh yes, Lewis’s “subtle” allegory of faith hasn’t been scarified in this twenty first century adap a la The Golden Compass, even in the midst of copious castle sieges and sword fights. But when you’ve got nearly two and a half hours to play with, you can squeeze a lot in, with numerous glances even alluding to a ludicrous underlying romance between elder sister Susan (Popplewell) and the Telmarine Prince!!

Sure, Mr. Tumnus and the Beaver’s may all have long since departed Narnia’s mortal plain, but the screen is now clear for a raft of new rabbiting mammals to provide some comic relief for the kiddies; in particular voice-of-reason Trufflehunter (Stott) the badger, and sword-wielding mouse Reepicheep (Izzard) whose persistently squeaky quips fire down many a derogatory comment aimed at his diminutive form. The dwarfs (one of which, naturally, is played by modest-for-hire Warwick Davis), meanwhile, still don’t exactly welcome trust, despite no longer being the White Witch’s minions…

I commend Adamson et al for their bravery and originality in expanding a treasured tome so indiscreetly. For this reason, Prince Caspian was always going to have its (purist) detractors. I was also pleasantly surprised by how little they pandered cringingly to their youngest demographic like the earliest Harry Potter films did – the Telmarine’s political backstabbing and warmongering, for instance, is likely to fly straight over the core audience's heads, but it is essential to setting up the civil war and Aslan’s noble return.

Yet for all the glossy effects, magical spectacle and humanizing themes there is still something about this updated series which doesn’t quite connect with me. Perhaps further depth to the characters and a more affectionate approach to the animal creations would invite viewers to bond more sincerely with the personal issues which affect the inhabitants of this world, instead of the overly cluttered approach which weighs down Caspian’s lengthy runtime and barely grants half of the cast more than a (snappy) line of dialogue.


In a CR@B Shell: Efficiently entertaining for its duration, but Prince Caspian’s appeal is as fleeting and shallow as the CGI effects which dominate Narnia’s bustling landscape. By no means an epic fail, but the warmth must be resurrected to stop The Dawn Treader from sinking.
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Beyond Barrow

Blu Review: 30 DAYS OF NIGHT: DARK DAYS
18 – 92mins – 2010
Screenplay by: Steve Niles and Ben Katai
Based upon the graphic novel by: Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith
Directed by: Ben Katai
Starring: Kiele Sanchez, Rhys Coiro, Mia Kirshner, Harold Perrineau, Doira Baird, Ben Cotton, Troy Ruptash
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Back in 2007, David Slade’s big screen adaptation of graphic novel sensation 30 Days of Night assured its position as not only my favourite film of that year, but as one of my favourite films of all time. The feral portrayal of the vampire clan descending upon the isolated Alaskan community of Barrow as the sun descended for the eponymous duration left me as chilled as the terrified characters hiding in the snow-steeped settlement.

When a sequel was announced – based upon the franchise’s second comic installment and once again co-written by creator Steve Niles – there was no doubt in my mind that this was a must see follow-up, and my enthusiasm wasn’t even dampened when it became clear that this was to be a direct-to-video offering with the original’s only surviving character – Sherriff’s wife Stella Oleson – being played by a different actress.

I will state right from the off that Dark Days does not reach the same heights as its gloriously unreserved predecessor – perhaps due to a smaller budget and a less original concept – although it does do a sufficient job of expanding the in-story universe and not resting on 30 Days’s laurels, for which it must be commended.

For starters, flashbacks aside, we are no longer in decimated Barrow, but following grieving Stella (Sanchez) as she tours America in a futile attempt to convince the world of the fanged horrors hiding in the shadows. Her only support comes in the form of mysterious tip-offs from a correspondent called Dane (Cotton), that is until she joins forces with three likewise vamp-aggrieved victims and they set out to bring down the bloodsucking network by taking out the big bad vampire queen Lilith (Kirshner).

Kiele Lost Sanchez is an adequately tight-lipped replacement for “busy” Melissa George, while Kirshner does what she can with limited characterisation but buckets of style. Unfortunately it diminishes the effect of the animalistic sun-shy hordes when they are merely doing someone else’s bidding, and when Lilith’s attacking skills are eventually put to the test, it is hard to believe that she demanded such respect among her fearsome kind.

I enjoyed the crossovers and call backs to the original film – the vampire hunters board an Arctic-bound ship on course to carry out an analogous attack; Agent Norris (Ruptash) is a “bug eater” desperate to be turned, much like the locked-up lackey in Barrow – while a shocking revelation breathes life into the vampire mythos and leads to a surprising twist in the tale, but in other areas Dark Days falls somewhat short.

The human team of Paul (Coiro), Amber (Baird) and Todd (Perrineau) are one dimensional to the extreme, and for supposedly skilled hunters their “plan” of breaking in to the vampire’s tunnel lair armed with guns – despite admitting bullets only slow the undead down – and a torch (!!) is shoddy to the extreme, while a sex scene seemed totally out of step with Stella’s emotional stance and appeared to only be included to spice up the rating and make Paul more relevant to the story.

I definitely didn’t detest Dark Days, indeed it seemed quite polished for a non-theatrical release, but my hopes were far too high after the inspired original and no sequel could have lived up to that in my mind. There are flashes of class (look out for the symmetry between two vital scenes) and plenty of brutal violence and excessive gore to keep the sadists happy, but all too often Ben Katai’s sequel is submerged in a cavern of cliché and clambers out looking far too familiar.


In a CR@B Shell: Dark, dank but not dismal, Dark Days is an above average budget-conscious effort, retaining 30 Days of Night’s atmosphere without retelling a replica story. Pity the characterisation wasn’t sharper as your empathy may evaporate to ash.
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Prison Monkeys

Blu Review: THE EXPERIMENT
15 – 96mins – 2010
Screenplay by: Paul Scheuring
Based on the novel “Black Box” by Mario Giordano, and the film Das Experiment (2001)
Directed by: Paul Scheuring
Starring: Adrien Brody, Forest Whitaker, Cam Gigandet, Clifton Collins Jnr., Ethan Cohn, Damien Leake, Travis Fimmel, David Banner, Fisher Stevens and Maggie Grace
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Eight years ago now, whilst I was away studying at university, a housemate of mine introduced me to a German film called Das Experiment (2001). He promised me that I would be utterly engrossed yet equally appalled by the psychological terrorism employed by the characters – a group of strangers being paid to take part in the titular study – and it would really make me question the term “humanity”. He wasn't wrong.

Almost a decade later and Hollywood has belatedly done what Hollywood does best (ahem) and remade a foreign language film which never needed to be remade, drafting in big name stars (Adrien Brody, Forest Whitaker) and well known faces (Maggie Lost Grace, Cam The O.C. Gigandet, Fisher Short Circuit Stevens) to show their range in this cruel and gritty prison observation gone very, very wrong.

That being said, as the credits rolled on The Experiment, I was just as riled up and exasperated by the narrative as I was in my dorm room back in 2002: this adaptation loses none of its potency in the translation as the designated “guards” – among them mild-mannered Christian mummy's boy Barris (Whitaker) – see the power of authority go straight to their heads as their treatment of the “inmates” – including recently unemployed carer Travis (Brody) – spirals into sadism.

It may seem incredulous that within 48 hours of the proposed 14 day study civility starts to crack as the guards enjoy their temporary authority a little too much, believing they can get away with whatever the hell they like providing the revered red light doesn't turn on and indicate that big brother is unhappy, but The Experiment bares a horrifically close resemblance to the real life 1971 Stanford prison experiment, itself likewise aborted just six days into a two week trial: this shit actually happened, people!

My initial reaction was that it seemed remiss of writer/director Paul Scheuring to not reveal study leader Archaleta's (Stevens) reasons for delaying the cancellation of his controversial research, especially after bullying and cruelty is asserted upon the “prisoners”; but in hindsight the director made the correct choice, plunging us too into the mock penal environment, forever looking to the red light for guidance.

Whether in German or English, The Experiment is a tortuous and difficult watch, there's no denying that. You'll pick your side and you'll question everything as common decency gets dunked down the toilet and your sense of guilt is shoved into solitary confinement all in the name of a $14,000 paycheck. Is it true what they say: are we all just animals in suits who will turn feral the minute law is placed in our greedy paws?


In a CR@B Shell: As psychotic as it is psychological, The Experiment is a brutally shocking Lord of the Flies for grown-ups. It will enrage and upset your moral code, but you won't be able to look away.
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Psychic Primate

DVD Review: MONKEY SHINES
18 – 108mins – 1988
Screenplay by: George A. Romero
Based on the novel by: Michael Stewart
Directed by: George A. Romero
Starring: Jason Beghe, John Pankow, Kate McNeil, Joyce Van Patten, Christine Forrest, Stephen Root, Stanley Tucci, Janine Turner, William Newman, Boo
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Despite being George A. Romero's first studio release and basking in the twilight of 1985's Day of the Dead, it's still not hard to see why Monkey Shines is one of the horror legend's lesser known works. For starters, the high concept premise – for all its good intentions of delivering an anti-animal experimentation message – sounds utterly ape-shit crazy, if you'll excuse the simian schtick.

Paralysed from the neck down following a car accident, Allan Mann (Jason Beghe) becomes a bitter and enraged young man. His frustration is anything but quelled when his “clinical c*nt” (classic line) of a girlfriend (Janine Turner) leaves him for his surgeon (Stanley Tucci) in his time of need, and his house nurse (Christine “Mrs Romero” Forrest) is an incompetent, unsympathetic bitch.

Allan is given reason to smile again, however, when his Mother Nature-tampering scientist of a best mate, Geoffrey Fisher (Jon Pankow) donates his smartest simian subject, Ella (Boo), to be Allan's legs and hands. That's right folks, Ella is trained to be Allan's slave, obeying his every order and request.

However, Geoff fails to mention to his wheelchair bound pal that Ella has been receiving regular injections of human brain matter in his laboratory, and soon the genetically modified junkie monkey starts developing a bizarre jealous streak, anticipating Allan's every need and even carrying out his most depraved subconscious wishes...

See what I mean? On paper (and computer screen), Monkey Shines sounds like a risible sub-Stephen King horror spoof. I'm still struggling to work out exactly how being injected with a dead girl's brain tissue can give Ella a psychic connection to Allan, but it's to Romero's credit that this novel adaptation – for all it's cheesy charm and gimmicky gubbins – still works as a psychological horror.

Allan's helplessness lends the film a great layer of tension, and Ella's psychotic splurges deliver the gore (although you will be disappointed if you are expecting blood and guts on a zombie chomping scale; this is more of a thriller). I particularly liked the close up shots of Allan with elongated canines, which gave a perverse and supernatural slant to this (pseudo-)scientific satire, though I won't comment on the scene where Ella licks blood from his lips, and what that may say about Allan's primal urges...

The plot takes a little while to get going (30 minutes in you do start to question whether it truly is a horror after all), and Begle's over-egged squinty-eyed bitter act is a little hard to swallow, especially when he starts a foul-mouthed rant at his over helpful mother (Joyce Van Patten), but if you prefer your horror more thoughtful and aloof and only delivering the bloody goods when the plot dictates (rather than a non-stop slurry of inane torture porn), then you could do far worse than a dose of Monkey Shines.


In a CR@B Shell: It isn't clinically perfect – or hide-behind-your-hands horrific – but Monkey Shines does well to make a sophisticated and creepy supernatural thriller out of a bananas concept. Bravo to Romero for taking a risk with an unconventional caper which most people would throw faeces at before giving a chance.
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Country Strife

Cine Review: TAMARA DREWE
15 – 111mins – 2010
Screenplay by: Moira Buffini
Based on the graphic novel by: Posy Simmonds
Directed by: Stephen Frears
Starring: Gemma Arterton, Roger Allum, Bill Camp, Dominic Cooper, Luke Evans, Tamsin Greig, Jessica Barden, Charlotte Christie, Josie Taylor
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[SPOILERS] I was utterly beguiled by the bright and frolicsome trailer for Stephen The Queen Frears’s film adaptation of Posy Simmonds’s country-set graphic novel. I wasn’t previously aware of the comic strip adventures of Tamara Drewe, but the theatrical trailer made it look like a light-hearted and wry dig at the rural middle classes. Plenty of teasing pokes at animal-mad, shotgun-carrying farmers who have no idea what a Prius is, then, I thought.

Bridget Jones in the country and The Archers with added sauce were two critical comparisons which filled me with hope for this British romantic comedy. Many-a-glowing 4 star review didn’t hurt, either, nor did the chance to see cutie Gemma Arteton squeeze into those denim hotpants… ahem.

Oh boy was I mistaken. No, not about the hotpants; indeed I cannot fault Ms. Arteton’s spunky performance as the eponymous music journalist who returns to her childhood homestead to prep the property for sale, ruffling many a local feather in the process. Alas, all of my other – more highbrow – expectations for Tamara Drewe were quickly quashed under a stampede of petrified cattle.

Firstly, I found it to be a thoroughly shallow film. Miss Drewe returns to idyllic rural Devon with a new nose. No, not a new nose, she points out, but a hulk of cartilage lighter nevertheless. A spattering of torid split-screen flashbacks reveal her once humungous honk – to little comedic effect – while all the men go wobbly at the knee for the grown-up city fittie.

Despite this universal admiration, Tamara swiftly finds herself in a futile engagement to indie drummer Ben Sergeant (Dominic Cooper), a hideously egotistical and offensive tosser with a short fuse who is anything but the marrying kind – but, hey, who cares about all that personality bollocks when he’s a big star?!

Secondly, the film was let down by a raft – nay, an ocean-liner – of horrifically unpleasant characters. Everyone is either a morally bankrupt bed-hopper, a foul-mouthed, uncouth twat or a spineless wimp. Crime novelist Nicolas Hardiment (Roger Allum) is continually cheating on his loyal housewife, Beth (Tamsin Greig), for no good reason except “because you let me”, then expects instant forgiveness from his weak-willed spouse, who all too often accepts...

Yep, even the “good” guys we’re meant to identify with are flecked with flaws here. Take genuine farm-boy and Tamara’s former fling, Alan Cobb (Luke Evans): he secretly still fancies her, but is so crippled by self-deprecation that he sulks in the background moaning about how hard to has to work, “making do” by using the local barmaid (Josie Taylor) to fill his wellington boots, then instantly forgets sluttish Tamara’s rampant indiscretions the second she cries on his shoulder! This is meant to be romantic?!!

Bored schoolgirls Jody (Jessica Barden) and Casey (Charlotte Christie) quickly cross the line from cheeky delinquents to lawbreaking criminals – all in the name of obsession – while even tame Thomas Hardy analyst Glen McCreavy (Bill Camp), staying at the Hardiment’s writer’s retreat, scuppers any chance of audience sympathy when he scarpers the minute the shit hits the fan in a wholly disagreeable and bloody cow-pat of a climax.

For all its “ironic” and “satiric” intent, I found the storyline to be far too dark and, quite frankly, depressing to be enjoyable: twee Devonshire landscapes - and Gemma Arteton - aside, Tamara Drewe doesn’t paint a very attractive picture of the English countryside - or its untrustworthy dwellers - at all.


In a CR@B Shell: Shedding its quaint country charm for a deluge of sinister, shallow and sleazy shenanigans, Tamara Drewe is an undignified crime of a “romantic comedy” which left my nose out of joint.
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Love Hurts (and then you Replay)

Cine Review: SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD
12A – 112mins – 2010
Written by: Michael Bacall and Edgar Wright
Based on the Oni Press graphic novel series by: Bryan Lee O’Malley
Directed by: Edgar Wright
Starring: Michael Cera, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Kieran Culkin, Ellen Wong, Johnny Simmons, Alison Pill, Mark Webber, Anna Kendrick, Chris Evans, Brandon Routh, Jason Schwartzman
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Bryan Lee O’Malley’s comic book adventures of geeky everyman Scott Pilgrim definitely only appeal to a niche audience. Prior to Edgar Hot Fuzz Wright announcing this big screen adaptation, I would guesstimate that even 90% of X-Men aficionados would have drawn a blank at the luckless adventures of the 20-something “Sex Bob-Omb” guitarist.

But then production of this “epic film of epic epicness” has hardly been a closely-guarded secret, and as hype reached fever pitch, so did the anticipation from an ever-growing fanbase. In the weeks leading up to release, it was near-impossible to surf the net without happening upon an exclusive titbit of info, a new poster, interview or a pop-up streaming the trailer. The marketing machine really can’t be faulted: Scott Pilgrim is now a household name. The problem is that anybody who has seen the trailer already knows precisely what to expect on the big screen.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World essentially is a feature-length extension of the microcosmic teaser; 112 minutes of flashy, hyper-stylised anime and video game in-jokes as weedy and unremarkable Scott (Michael Cera; perfectly cast) has to defeat the league of seven evil exes to win the heart of the crazy-haired, rollerblading girl of his dreams, Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead; indie cute).

That is it as far as plot goes – it isn’t even totally clear exactly why Scott has to fight his way to victory in a series of Street Fighter style beat ‘em ups – and you’ll know as soon as you see the 8-bit, midi-tone downgrade of the opening Universal logo whether the film is going to hit your buttons or not. Much like the comic, SPvTW is very much a niche film.

It’s funky and fun – at least for the first 45 minutes – but the stage-by-stage structuring means you are consciously aware of how far through the film you are, and if I’m totally honest, things started to drag a smidge after the fourth “level” kung-fu duel. There are only so many opponents exploding into coins and Final Fantasy-riffing dragon battles you can take before ‘novel’ becomes… samey.

Sure, the CGI is faultless and the humour spunky, but every shot is so busy (every onomatopoeic sound effect is visualised, there’s a pee-bar which depletes when Scott urinates, etcetera) that you soon realise that the film works better in its quieter moments of character interaction. When Brandon Routh’s utterly hideous psychic vegan shows up and starts hitting girls (‘cos he’s a rocker!!!), you start to crave a bit of restraint.

This again highlights another issue which will jar with some (more grounded) viewers: Scott Pilgrim is not set in our world, but its own tweaked hyper-reality where barely anybody raises an eyebrow at a film star (Chris Evans; delightfully cocky) catapulting a kid into a castle wall, or a punk (Satya Bhabha; kooky) dancing in the air with a bevy of demon hipster chicks. This deviance of logic takes the whimsical eccentricities from out of Scott’s mindframe and alters your perception of what is sincere and what matters: even when Scott “dies” you know he’s got another “life” so you barely register any emotion.

Even when Shaun was smacking zombies with a cricket bat you were still 100% behind the lovable loser, but in rising up to the next level in filmmaking (Hollywood), Edgar Wright has gone all out to impress: he’s clearly an idiosyncratic auteur bursting with audacious ideas of which he is passionate, but if he isn’t careful he’ll bury the heart which made us back Shaun beneath an abundance of gimmicky quirks and pixels. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is by no means a failure (hell, I was sniggering along with the best of them) but it’s clear why this contemporary geek-out hasn’t clicked with audiences the way the money-men expected.


CR@B Verdict: Destined to find its place as a cult hit, Scott Pilgrim is an extreme n’ relentless “ka-pow!” to the senses. A 5* film for the Gameboy generation, but everyone over 35 will be left in need of a power-up and an aspirin.
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