Showing posts with label malcolm mcdowell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label malcolm mcdowell. Show all posts

Friday, 3 June 2011

Diabolical Dick(tator)

Blu Review: CALIGULA
18 – 152mins – 1979
Written by: Gore Vidal
Directed by: Tinto Brass and Bob Guccione
Starring: Malcolm McDowell, John Gielgud, Peter O'Toole, Helen Mirren, Teresa Ann Savoy

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Oh.

My.

Good.

God.

This is a genuine warning, CR@B fans: Any readers who thought Spartacus: Blood and Sand's penchant for fruity language and fruitier displays of T&A was too extreme for their chaste sensibilities – click away now. Seriously. This Penthouse co-produced picture is in a league all its own. 20,000 leagues under dignity, to be precise, and this rant– sorry: review does have to address some of these base issues in order to fully justify my shock.

Caligula, the infamously controversial taboo-flaunting “porn epic” has – for many years now – been floating around the foot of my “must see” film list. Not because I'm a giant perve (we-e-e-e-ell), but because I simply had to see a legitimate historical biography starring respected Hollywood thespians (just look at that cast!) which also features real hardcore pornography and explicit sexual violence – it just beggars belief! Rest assured you'll never look at The Queen the same way again...

But before I tackle the smut (oo-er), I will first flag up my concern over the casting: Fragile lead Malcolm McDowell didn't convince me at all as Gaius Caesar Germanicus, better known as the eponymous Caligula. Weedy and unimposing, he lacked any sense of gravitas necessary to lead an empire. Would his people really have bowed to his every demonic demand and sardonic whim? What the A Clockwork Orange actor does bring to the role, however, is a pair of authentically mad eyes, which, considering the Roman Emperor's obvious detachment from reality, does serve the immoral bastard well.

At a bum-numbing three hours, this notorious affair is a real schizophrenic failure: the “serious” drama segments concerning Caligula's murdering of his mad predecessor, Tiberius (O'Toole), and fall from grace once he has ascended to the throne and abused his power to the utmost, are overlong, undramatic and simply not in the least gripping; while the repeated insertion of shocking full frontal fetishistic sex scenes, castration, brutal murder and rape is distasteful and disturbingly off-putting to the extreme.

Supposedly representative of the decadence and debauchery prevalent in the Roman powerhouse, Caligula instead comes off as desperate – it's no wonder so many involved in the troubled three year production have since disowned what is little more than the highest budgeted porn film ever made. They can claim all they want that the explicit footage belatedly shot and inserted by Penthouse's Bob Guccione ruined their vision, but even without the all-too-obvious additions, Caligula is still an absolute mess! Almost ever other scene takes place in some new, vast and extravagant set – and yet all the camera is interested in is entwined naked bodies in all their up-close vulgarity. Trust me: you see e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.

In one such jaw-dropping scene, Caligula is partaking in a menage a trois with his wife (Mirren) and beloved – in the carnal sense – sister (Savoy) while two random slave girls watch the incestuous depravity from a private room, becoming so turned on that they end up having lesbian relations themselves. The camera continues to dart between these two graphic displays for what feels like ten minutes too long, before jumping to the following morning as if nothing out of the ordinary has taken place. Just another day at the amphitheatre, then?!!

The eponymous mad-man is just so thoroughly detestable that you never once feel for this sister-fucking, mass-murdering, trust-abusing, backstabbing despot who sees no issue with torturing an innocent man until death, then encouraging his bevy of under-dressed minions to “seductively” urinate over the poor man's corpse!! Yet, when a blackbird flies into his bedroom, he squeals like a sissy!! Exactly how we are meant to embrace the “tragic” story of how his own inner circle eventually turned against him is beyond me. Just to preserve my sanity I had to view this obsene monstrosity in three instalments and I could easily have given up after each sitting. The things I do for you guys...!!


In a CR@B Shell: Eschewing art in favour of grot, this is a sick, pitiful and sorry exercise in torture – namely, ours! I really don't know how they got away with making this shameful and indecent mockery to the medium of film, but if you want to watch porn, then just watch porn and leave Caligula to rot like it deserves. Scandalous.
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Wednesday, 23 February 2011

The Road Warrior

DVD Review: THE BOOK OF ELI
15 – 113mins – 2010
Written by: Gary Whitta
Directed by: The Hughes Brothers
Starring: Denzel Washington, Gary Oldman, Mila Kunis, Ray Stevenson, Jennifer Beals, Tom Waits, Frances De La Tour, Michael Gambon, Malcolm McDowell

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[SPOILERS] Thirty years after an unidentified catastrophic event “tore a hole through the sky and made the sun descend”, wiping out the majority of civilisation, lone traveller and exceptional survivalist Eli (Washington) is making his way through the desolate, barren wasteland which once was America , on a private pilgrimage to the West.

Arriving in a tumbledown colony made up of suspicious and scared scraps of society living under the tyrannical rule of founder Carneige (Oldman), Eli’s unwavering belief in his much-revered sole possession (the book of the title) piques Carneige’s interest in the wandering outsider, while Eli’s resistance to handing over the crucifix-adorned text (yep, it’s that book) sees the desperate despot dispatch a band of henchmen to secure the treasure long thought lost.

Washington and Black Swan’s Kunis – as Eli’s tagalong sidekick Solara – quickly build up a platonic chemistry which is easy to accept in spite of their multitude of differences, while Oldman sieves and grits his teeth with overdramatic “e-e-evil” menace throughout. It is hard to envisage how a man as defenceless as he has managed to coerce an army of far more able-bodied grunts into kowtowing to his vile and threatening doctrine, but clearly knowledge is power in a future where currency is irrelevant and illiteracy the standard.

The religious overtones of finding hope in the words of the bible forever hang in the film’s periphery, but it isn’t until the lead duo’s belated arrival at Alcatraz that the spiritual MacGuffin takes centre stage. But any trepidation of being preached at through the screen is diminished by the hammy supporting cast (Gambon and De La Tour, I’m looking at you) and writer Whitta’s intermittent attempts at smirksome humour.

Released in close proximity to another – frankly superior – post apocalyptic drama (The Road), The Book of Eli can’t help but feel like less of a revelation than it might otherwise have been. Strong shades of Mad Max also don’t help its cause; while the protagonist’s remarkably accomplished martial arts skills and a curious green tinge to the clouded skyline give the film a more fantastical edge which detracts from the seriousness of the character’s dystopian dilemma.


In a CR@B Shell: Not as drab as films of a similar ilk, but also nowhere near as grave, this post-apocalyptic theological action flick from the sibling directorial duo behind From Hell is a real mixed bag of genre elements which never bores, but also never quite settles comfortably.
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Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Puppy Power!

DVD Review: BOLT
PG – 96mins – 2009
Written by: Dan Fogelman and Chris Williams, with Byron Howard and Jared Stern
Directed by: Byron Howard and Chris Williams
Starring the voice talents of: John Travolta, Miley Cyrus, Susie Essman, Mark Walton, Malcolm McDowell, James Lipton, Greg Germann

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On the surface, this hyper-modern tale of a genetically enhanced superdog who can shoot lasers from his eyes, outrun speeding locomotives and bark loud enough to decimate motorways, sounds like a radically cool sci-fi twist on Disney's routine talking animal 'toon template.

But don't start yapping for joy just yet, folks, because unfortunately Bolt fails to reinvent the (hamster) wheel like its quirky premise promises. After a refreshingly erractic – and dare I be so complimentary? Avant garde – double bluff opening which triumphantly pulls you in two completely opposing directions, once the bombast has settled down you soon realise that you've seen this story a thousand times before.

You see, our eponymous pup (Travolta) may be a superstar, but he's only a superhero in his own mind. For Bolt is actually the lead in an action-packed hit TV show, but the powers-that-be behind the camera have made the curious decision to keep the truth of their scripted operation from their cute-but-courageous four-legged star, in order to extract a more realistic performance from their cash canine. I've heard of method acting but this takes the (doggy) biscuit!

Naturally, this causes no end of hassle in making sure that Bolt truly believes in this make believe reality where he fights off mysterious helmeted henchmen in his quest to take down his evil green-eyed nemesis, Dr Calico (McDowell), even when the cameras aren't rolling.

But when the deluded dog is accidentally let out of his trailer and separated from his co-star and young human owner, Penny (Cyrus), he is forced to confront the disheartening truth and comprehend his own mortality as he makes his way back to the Hollywood film lot he calls home through a real world which is so much more terrifying when you aren't the invincible hero you thought you were.

As you would expect, lessons are learnt, truths are told, faiths are regained and self-referential parent-pleasing quips are fired off, as Bolt treks from city-to-city in loyal search of “his person”, accompanied – as is the convention in these matters – by a couple of lovingly misunderstood sidekick “outcast” critters.

Meet Mittens, a cynical, de-clawed alley cat, and Rhino, an overweight TV-obsessed hamster in a transparent exercise ball. Mittens provides Bolt with the no-nonsense reality of his predicament, while dreamer Rhino is noteworthy only for his over-use of the word “awesome” (which, ironically, is anything but). He even hilariously (sic) evolves it into “be-awesome”, which is a whole syllable easier to say than 'beyond awesome', except it makes absolutely zero sense.

Annoying word use aside, the crux to Bolt's success is that once the high concept disguise is stripped away from this slick pup, all you are left with is just another syrupy sweet rite of passage Disney clone, straddled with the added disadvantage of requiring even more of a stretch of your imagination than usual.

The scriptwriting team don't exactly help themselves either by seemingly being unable to make up their minds regarding a rather major plot point. Is Bolt the biggest and most easily distinguishable celebri-dog since Lassie with billboards and merchandise in his image, or is he just another mutt with a lightening bolt painted on his fur who is not recognised by pigeons and gets thrown in the dog pound without a glance at his Hollywood engraved dog tag? Furthermore, if he's such a valuable asset to the TV network, then are we really supposed to believe that when he goes missing, the best advertising they can muster is Penny's crudely handwritten A4 poster?

No, I'm not barking mad (just a stickler for pedantry), and yes, I'm well aware that I'm looking far too deeply into a light-hearted family-focused animation, but as even the in-film executives at the Hollywood television studios understood: consistency helps build a believable universe, and without it, you're completely boned.


In a CR@B Shell: “Be-awesome” on the outside but less-than-pedigree on the inside, Bolt fails to innovate from Disney's rigid tradition, despite a wicked hook which sadly tails off after five thunderous and unconventional opening minutes. Doggone it.
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