Showing posts with label comic book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comic book. Show all posts

Monday, 1 August 2011

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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Friday, 29 July 2011

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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Thursday, 2 June 2011

Teenage Mutant Hero Freakshow

Cine Review: X-MEN: FIRST CLASS
12A – 135mins – 2011
Story by: Bryan Singer and Sheldon Turner
Screenplay by: Ashley Edward Miller, Zack Stentz, Jane Goldman and Matthew Vaughn
Based on the comic book miniseries created by: Stan Lee, Jack Kirby and Chris Claremont
Directed by: Matthew Vaughn
Starring: James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Kevin Bacon, Rose Byrne, January Jones, Jennifer Lawrence, Nicholas Hoult, Zoë Kravitz, Caleb Landry Jones, Lucas Till, Edi Gathegi, Jason Flemyng, Álex González, Ray Wise, Oliver Platt
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Controversially, I have always had very much a take-them-or-leave-them attitude towards the big screen adventures of Marvel Comic’s popular mutant super squad: even the much-lauded X2 didn’t swing my opinion. In point of fact I fell asleep during X-Men: The Last Stand and to this day have yet to rewatch it, while the least well-received critically – X-Men Origins: Wolverine – I honestly didn’t mind, although I recognised it for the shallow blockbuster it was and nothing more.

X-Men: First Class however, as the title implies, is set before all of these – taking us right back to the very beginning; before Charles “Professor X” Xavier (McAvoy) was bald and before Erik “Magneto” Lehnsherr (Fassbender) was wrinkly, when the adversaries were friends united in the same cause before a rather monumentous difference of opinion regarding mutant-kind’s association with humans forced an X-shaped wedge between them which saw them take very divergent paths…

Set predominantly in the 1960s before a very real backdrop of the Cuban Missile Crisis, First Class sees Xavier and Lehnsherr fly around the globe recruiting those with unique superhuman abilities to join their resistance and live out and proud, in the shadows no more. During the two hour bonanza we are introduced to youthful depictions of “Mystique” (Lawrence), “The Beast” (Skins’ Hoult), “Angel” (Kravitz), “Banshee” (Landry Jones), “Havoc” (Till), “Darwin” (Gathegi), “Riptide” (González) and “Azazel” (Flemyng) – it’s quite an ensemble cast and some players get far more attention than others.

There are a cascade of ret-con explanations for how each of the character’s got their nicknames (it’s rather unspectacular to be honest), how “Magneto” came by his iconic metal helmet, how Xavier came to be paralysed and wheelchair-bound, and even a nifty cameo for a certain gnarled adamantium-clawed icon (whose origin has, of course, already been mauled to death).

They are the kind of fan-friendly winks to the audience which are neat when used sparingly but can get somewhat tiresome en mass. However, First Class compliments the call-backs (or should that be call-forwards?) with its own distinct story in its own distinct era. To claim it’s a reinvention or fresh start akin to Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, however, is somewhat misrepresentative: this is very much the same Bryan Singer-produced X-verse, merely earlier.

Kevin Bacon mines his devious Hollow Man persona as former Nazi soldier turned megalomaniac mutant nemesis Sebastian Shaw who is hell-bent on causing nuclear war and bringing mankind to its knees. He isn’t quite as imposing or memorable as a comic book supervillian should be (particularly not when he surrounds himself with scantily clad lovely January Jones as Emma Frost), but you’ll certainly sympathise with vengeful Lehnsherr for wanting him dead.


In a CR@B Shell: Cooler and more collected than most hyperactive comic book blockbusters, X-Men: First Class manages to intertwine itself in the Marvel super-team’s expansive legacy whilst also telling a distinctive tale all its own. Whether we necessary needed a prequel, however, is something of a moot point…
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Monday, 25 April 2011

Go-Go-Gadget: Son

Blu Review: ASTRO BOY
PG – 90mins – 2009
Story by: David Bowyers
Screenplay by: Timothy Hyde-Harris and David Bowyers
Based on the original 1952 Manga comic character created by: Osamu Tezuka
Directed by: David Bowyers
Starring the voice talents of: Freddie Highmore, Kristen Bell, Nicolas Cage, Bill Nighy, Donald Sutherland, Nathan Lane, Matt Lucas, Newell Alexander, Charlize Theron, Eugene Levy

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Beneath the sleek glossy surface of this futuristic Manga-adapted CGI 'toon beats a very human heart. In point of fact, that turn of phrase works just as fittingly as a microcosmic metaphor for the dualistic bionic central character in this high-flying robot-who-thinks-he's-a-real-boy adventure. Astro Boy is a morally underscored journey of self-worth and acceptance, akin to Pinocchio retold for the Ben 10 generation who are too young for AI but too cool for Disney.

Boasting a surprisingly first rate voice cast, bright, crisp animé-tion and a welcome dose of (occasionally overtly juvenile) humour; director David Bower's heroic Hollywood-isation is vivid comic book entertainment the whole family can enjoy. But beyond the technologically exuberant spectacle (“I've got guns... in my butt!”) lies a much darker and more emotional message...

The eponymous automaton is built by a brilliant scientist (Cage) in the image of the son (Highmore) he lost, only to be rejected by the grieving father and forced to (literally) fight to find his place in a world which looks down upon robots as utensils built to serve. That is, until the citizens of Metro City need saving from a Presidential mad-man (Sutherland) determined to do anything to stay in office. Sure, it's hardly revolutionary, but Astro Boy doesn't deserve to be thrown on the scrapheap of pixelated misfires, either.


CR@B Rating: Astro Boy's innocently cherubic looks and swanky arsenal of gadgetry cloak this sombre coming-of-(space)-age tale in the sleek identity of an exhilarating sci-fi Saturday-matinee spectacular. Kudos to project spearhead David Bowyers; this 21st century reinvention is a blast on both fronts.
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Thursday, 14 April 2011

Walkers' Ready Slaughtered Stiffs

TV Review: THE WALKING DEAD – THE COMPLETE FIRST SEASON
15 - 292mins - 2010
Developed by: Frank Darabont
Based on the comic book series by: Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore and Charlie Adlard
Executive Producers: Frank Darabont, Gale Anne Hurd, David Alpert, Robert Kirkman, Charles H. Eglee
Starring: Andrew Lincoln, Joe Bernthal, Sarah Wayne Callies, Laurie Holden, Jeffrey DeMunn, Steven Yeun, Andrew Rothenberg, Chandler Riggs, Irone Singleton, Michael Rooker
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Genres carry with them certain weights of expectation. For instance, tradition dictates that comic books are action-packed and visually resplendent creations which stretch the limits of the imagination with all manner of supernatural and superhuman heroes and foes. Likewise, zombie horror flicks feature an abundance of limb-trailing, flesh-chomping, gore-splattered set-pieces which turn the stomach and jangle the nerves. “They’re coming to get you, Barbara...” and all that jazz.

Being a zombie horror show based upon a renowned comic book series, AMC’s The Walking Dead had twice the responsibility – nay, thrice, with feature film director (and ace adaptor) Frank The Shawshank Redemption Darabont at the helm – to kick some major ass. Things certainly started promisingly in the epic pilot “Days Gone Bye” (#1.01), which sees our protagonist, Georgia sheriff deputy Rick Grimes (Andrew Teachers Lincoln adopting a US twang) awaken from a coma in hospital only to find everyone has deserted him and everything has gone to hell, a la 28 Days Later. Alas, as this promising series progressed, I must confess to being *slightly* let down.


Regulars to The CR@B Shack will know of my near-fanatical appreciation of George A. Romero’s Living Dead saga (see my reviews of Night (1990), Land, Diary and Survival of the Dead) – to say I was pumped for a weekly dose of undead post-apocalyptic carnage is an understatement. And yes, The Walking Dead does look amazing, with the washed-out colour palette perfectly complimenting the desolate wasteland which once was a bustling hive of humanity, and the cinematic special effects are leagues above what a small screen budget would normally accommodate. But season one still failed to sate my gorehound appetite for a number of key reasons.

I am all for directors underlining their visual glamour with satiric depth – Romero peppered all his horror films with stinging societal critiques (decaying zombies = decaying society) – but The Walking Dead seemed far too wrapped up in the human drama aspect, much to the detriment of any legitimate chills. For instance, “Guts” (#1.03) sees Rick join a small group of survivors in Atlanta , only for T-Dog (Singleton) to be viciously pummelled by racist hick Merle (Rooker). In “Tell It to the Frogs” (#1.04), survivor Shane (Bernthal) attacks an uncouth wife-beater to within an inch of his life, while “Vatos” (#1.05) sees a group of hostile city survivors kidnap Greg (Yeun) only for both parties to learn that appearances can be deceiving. Surely, when the world has come to an end, these people have slightly larger concerns than the colour of a man’s skin?


Furthermore, at a mere six episodes, this premiere season was simply too darn short – there was a lack of flow as plot points came to the fore then disappeared completely (leaving many to remain wide open), and because of this the vague story arc – initially of Rick finding his wife (Callies) and son (Riggs), then of the continued survival of the camp – suffered greatly. I’m not au fait with the source story, but these six episodes did not feel like a complete series with any sort of conclusive element.

As the series ends, Rick is still completely clueless to his wife’s awkward love affair with best mate Shane, Merle has escaped in the group’s van never to return, lone wanderers Morgan and son Duane haven’t made it to the camp, Jim’s (Rothenberg) prophetic sunstroke delusions have led to no major revelations, and – most disappointing of all – the decision to leave the forests and convoy to military base the CDC in the hope of finding a cure in “TS-19” (#1.06) granted us a wholly anti-climatic finale which wielded absolutely no kind of breakthrough to the pandemic whatsoever.

I appreciate that real life doesn’t always provide neat answers to every single question, and people do pop into your life then leave just as suddenly, but serialised television requires such conclusions to satisfy the audience; otherwise why do we return week after week if we’re just left hanging? Granted, a second season has been confirmed (to consist of a much more appealing 13 installments) and some plot points will be picked up again there, but a season should be able to stand up on its own as a complete entity, and unfortunately, in that respect, The Walking Dead’s opening season shuffles and lumbers and eventually loses its legs altogether.


In a CR@B Shell: Less a horror and more a heavy-handed comment on society which is so concerned with making humankind look like the villain that it fails to capitalise upon the real rotters. The Walking Dead has promise, but as a zombie nut, I was hoping for more bloody carnage and less survivalist drama.
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Thursday, 26 August 2010

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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Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Two-Dimensional Terror

DVD Review: CREEPSHOW 2
15 – 89mins – 1987
Written by: George A. Romero
Based on stories by: Stephen King
Directed by: Michael Gornick
Starring: Tom Savini, George Kennedy, Dorothy Lamour, Frank Salsedo, Holt McCallany, Paul Satterfield, Jeremy Green, Daniel Beer, Page Hannah, Lois Chiles , David Beecroft, Tom Wright, Richard Parks

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Five years after George A. Romero and Stephen King brought us five tales of jolting terror in 1982's Creepshow anthology, the masters of horror returned to bring us another issue of camp comic scares presented by demonic storyteller The Creep (Tom Savini). Second time around Romero took screenplay duty and Creepshow's cinematographer, Michael Gornick, was promoted to director. Budget restrictions (what more should we expect when indie auteur Romero is involved?) saw the original film's five strip set-up reduced to a trio of King-inspired shorts.

A cartoon wraparound bringing back Billy (Domenick John), the avid reader of the eponymous tome from the first film, interjects the live-action stories with a clichéd story of bullies never prospering... with giant Venus Flytraps. Given the film's graphic inspiration, it was a nice idea to incorporate hand-drawn animation, and I fully accept that these serialised skits would make the most of their artistic (and budgetary) freedom, but the moralistic story felt far too childish and ridiculously OTT, and it lessened the impact of the more mature – though equally unrealistic – live-action vignettes. And that's saying a lot...

Old Chief Wood'nhead: The wooden statue of a Native American (Dan Kamin) comes alive to deliver vengeance for an elderly couple needlessly murdered by a gang of lowlife thugs in a bungled raid on their southwest store.

This first story starts surprisingly slowly, allowing the audience to warm to Ray (George Kennedy) and Martha Spruce (Dorothy Lamour), a kind-hearted and hard-working couple you can't help but admire. This bond makes their slaughter at the hand of vain, delusional ringleader Sam Whitemoon (Holt McCallany) and his braindead cohorts all the more cruel and hard to watch. The lengthy burglary scene leaves little time for the Chief's bloody retribution to have much impact, and the majority of his rampage is only shown in silhouette or off screen (such as Sam's apt demise). Also: what's the point of having a possessed wooden bodyguard if you have to die before he step's off his podium? A great concept then, but "Old Chief Wood'nhead" was averagely executed.

The Raft: Four disposable teens with hackneyed personalities (jock, slut, shy girl and eco-warrior) take an out-of-season trip to a lake to smoke weed, swim in the freezing waters and get laid on the titular wooden device. However, an unidentified blob monster has other plans and strands them in the middle of the lake before picking them off one by one and dragging them under the surface...

The weakest of the three segments, “The Raft” is let down in three key areas. Firstly, by a supernatural predator which looks more like a few old plastic bags floating in the river then the “oil slick” it keeps getting mistaken for. Secondly, I appreciate that the teenagers are meant to be naïve and they are playing clichés of the helpless victims who always get killed off, but when even the nicest and most “normal” guy, Randy (Daniel Beer), fondles his dead mate’s girlfriend while she sleeps, having just seen two of their friend’s murdered, I failed to have an iota of sympathy for any of them. Thirdly, the plot is as thin as a line drawing: the monster is never explained, the characters fail to think up an escape plan and the whole story is terribly one-sided. “The Raft” suffered from a lack of substance or plot progression; the kids don’t even attempt to see if their alien adversary has a weakness, preferring to simply wait it out until death. Good plan(!)

The Hitch-hiker: Businesswoman Annie Lansing (Lois Chiles) is in a hurry to drive 20 miles in an impossible 7 minutes to avoid her rich and punctual husband (Richard Parks) from suspecting her infidelity with a male gigolo (David Beecroft). Losing control at the wheel, Annie runs down a hitchhiker (Tom Wright), panics and leaves him for dead. Only he isn’t prepared to let her get away with it… "Thanks for the lift, lady!"

Ramping up the tension and the gore-factor, “The Hitch-hiker” is far and away the most satisfying of the three tales: a paranormal fable of revenge where we are rooting for the bloodied and mangled remains of a man wronged. It is also successful in playing with our sense of reality – has Annie’s state of shock lead her to hallucinate the disturbing events? – before justice is, ahem, wheeled out. Though quite how Annie ever made it home before her husband is beyond me...?


CR@B Verdict: As fun as this comic book horror can be, Creepshow 2 offers little depth to its lightweight chills. The animated intermissions also negate the live-action terror, with only “The Hitchhiker” delivering any darkness in an otherwise bright, camp extravagance.
**.5

Friday, 7 May 2010

Boys and their Toys

Cine-review: IRON MAN 2
12A – 124 min. – 2010
Written by: Justin Theroux
Based on the characters created by: Stan Lee
Directed by: Jon Favreau
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Don Cheadle, Scarlett Johansson, Gwyneth Paltrow, Mickey Rourke, Sam Rockwell, Samuel L. Jackson, Garry Shandling

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After a bleak and washed-out Russia-set prologue establishes the theme of fatherly vengeance fuelling physicist Ivan Vanko's (Mickey Rourke) violent motives for becoming electric-harnessing foe Whiplash, Jon Favereau's superhero sequel swiftly shifts gear into a totally different animal for the remainder of its two hour running time, hiding any sense of darkness under a bright and polished shell. Which, as it happens, is also a fair assessment of how we find billionaire man-behind-the-iron-mask Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) as he opens the “Stark Expo”, a year-long technological showcase, amid a blaze of fireworks and cheerleaders; fearful for his survival as the power source keeping his heart beating is slowly poisoning his body, yet all smiles, peace signs and self-assured sarcasm as the poster boy for America's peace: Iron Man.

Unfortunately, everybody isn't quite so in love with Stark as he is with himself: the Government – spearheaded by hot-headed Senator Stern (Garry Shandling) – is determined to take control of Stark's “weapon” for military use, while shameless rival Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) has tenacious plans to upstage the techno-suit and stick two fingers up at Stark by unveiling his own drone-like creations (think beefed-up Super Battle Droids from the Star Wars prequels) at the Expo, by any underhanded means necessary. Being the top dog is really important to these people.

Friend Jim Rhodes (Don Cheadle, replacing Terrence Howard from the first film) isn't always successful in keeping Stark's head in the game – or clear of alcohol – as Tony names former personal assistant Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) CEO of his company, then slowly goes off the rails towards self destruction. A riotous sequence as Rhodes dons his War Machine suit to butt heads with his drunken pal following a disastrous birthday party is a highlight in an otherwise talk-heavy, preparatory middle section as Tony returns to his Minority Report-style lab to battle with the elements and revitalise his uncooperative chest reactor, while Hammer secretly hires the scientific services of a scheming Vanko to mobilize his drone army for a flashy, high-flying conclusion.

The A-list cast are superb at putting the comic in this comic book adaptation; Downey Jr. emanates suit-ably elevated ego, while man mountain Rourke is a believably unpredictable threat and Rockwell is as shady as he is scatty. Scarlett Johansson smoulders as the secretary SHIELDing a secret identity, and even Favereau's chauffeur character, Happy Hogan, is a chucklesome success in an expanded role which sees his boxing training come in handy.

Beyond the buzzing banter, however, the explosive Monaco set-piece early in the plot is never bettered for sheer nail-biting tension, despite the filmmakers employing the 'bigger is better' approach to this entertaining CGI extravaganza. The busy finale ultimately wastes Whiplash's accumulated ferocity in an all-too-brief battle. When all is said, done and blown to smithereens, this big-budget follow-up boils down to a bunch of emasculated men vying to topple a superhuman idol in their magnificent flying (war) machines. Some things never change, no matter how much cash you flash. Question is, who's got the biggest... rocket?


CR@B Verdict: A marvel-lous cast have a tremendous time delivering bright, shiny, summer blockbuster fun, peppered with laughs. Iron Man 2 is a lightweight but likeable robot pissing contest on a grand scale.
***.5

Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Copyright Sin in Central City

DVD Review: THE SPIRIT
12 – 98mins – 2008
Written for the screen by: Frank Miller
Adapted from the comic book series by: Will Eisner
Directed by: Frank Miller
Starring: Gabriel Macht, Samuel L. Jackson, Eva Mendes, Scarlett Johansson, Louis Lombardi, Sarah Paulson, Dan Lauria, Paz Vega, Eric Balfour, Stana Katic

____________________________________

Following the runaway success of the stylised punk noir of Sin City (2005) and the gritty macho force of 300 (2007), you would be forgiven for thinking Frank Miller, creator of the comic books upon which the aforementioned films were based and co-director of the former, could do no wrong. Then, however, he decided to take somebody else’s line-drawn superhero creation and desecrate any originality by stamping his signature limited-palette stamp all over a celluloid adaptation.

The nerve.

Visually, The Spirit craves to be Sin City 2, if Miller ploughed ahead with a Robert Rodriguez-less, muted, family affair lacking in quality, edge and, well, spirit. It’s the film of a graphic novel, minus the graphic, attempting to win audiences over as an outlandish, tongue-in-cheek genre parody (character names Sand Saref and Plaster of Paris speak for themselves), yet for all of its ‘witty’ dialogue, flamboyant ‘flair’ and flashes of deliberately hammy spoofery, it takes itself far too seriously to succeed.

The minimal plot concerns murdered cop Denny Colt (Gabriel Macht; unendearing) who is brought back to life with the power to take a beating and heal at superhuman speed. Donning a face mask, black shirt and ‘iconic’ red tie, Colt becomes the eponymous Spirit, who keeps his beloved Central City safe from crime and flamboyant madmen such as his arch-enemy, the Octopus (Samuel L. Jackson), who is also imbued with this inflated tolerance of bodily torture and, for reasons unknown, will not shut up about eggs (!!).

Also on the green screen scene is Denny's childhood crush, the sexy, diamond-lover San Serif (Eva Mendes), who is on the hunt for the mythological Golden Fleece, unaware that her beloved bling is in an identical chest to the Octopus's desired treasure: the Blood of Hercules, which would extend his indestructibility towards demi-god status. What are the chances?! Quite high, apparently, as they are both found – chained together – at the bottom of a sewage plant swamp, and each party is enraged to have gone away with the wrong prized procession.

Isn't that always the way?!!

It's a farcical plot seemingly derived from a 1950’s Looney Tunes vignette, but without the laughs. This isn't through lack of trying, however: the Spirit and the Octopus trade heavy blows throwing in everything including the kitchen sink; the Spirit falls from a skyscraper only to get his trouser waistband caught on a gargoyles head in line with a lift full of giggling girls; the Octopus dabbles with cloning and creates a bouncing foot with a human head.... Frankly, it's cheap and groan-worthy balderdash.

The film's supporters – I'm sure there are some, somewhere – will argue that this is precisely the point, that Frank Miller wanted to create a self-aware piss-take of the overblown, ostentatious comic book superhero movie. Yet, while there are suggestions of such ‘ironic’ humour – the Octopus's army of dumb and defective cloned cannon fodder (all played by Louis Lombardi); the Octopus and Silken Floss (Scarlett Johansson) playing Nazi dress up to deliver long-winded exposition to the captive hero – ultimately, The Spirit falls far from the mark. It's a rambling and directionless mess of an adaptation, filled with flaws – Jamie Foxx's confusing and unexplained appearances as Spirit-saving goddess (?) Lorelei Rox, for example – which you're laughing at, not with.

Nobody is going to persuade me that Frank Miller purposefully made a shit film.


CR@B Verdict: A sad and sorry slurry of recycled style over sub-par substance: The Spirit is bombastic dreck which should never have been brought back to life in this form. Avoid.
*