Vehicular Manslaughter

DVD Review: STEPHEN KING’S TRUCKS
18 – 95mins – 1997
Screenplay by: Brian Taggert
Based on the short story by: Stephen King
Directed by: Chris Thomson
Starring: Timothy Busfield, Brenda Bakke, Aidan Devine, Amy Stewart, Roman Podhora, Jay Brazeau, Rick Skene, William Hope, Brendan Fletcher
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It goes without saying that the genre of horror is all about the abnormal, the uncanny; therefore possessing inanimate objects with deranged sentience which gives them unnatural supremacy over their owners is a wickedly perverse concept – when done correctly. For every Childs Play there’s a Small Soldiers, where the transfer of intimidation to an inorganic object diminishes the threat from chilling to cheesy and it’s therefore played for laughs.

This inability to differentiate between these dissonant demeanors ultimately stalls Trucks before it even kicks into gear. What we are left to survey is a flat, po-faced low budget TV Movie from the 1990’s (although, rather tellingly, not released until 2000) about unmanned automobiles running down their drivers that wants to be taken seriously and evoke an eerie/dramatic tension, but the absurdity of the whole endeavour unintentionally invites laughter rather than screams.

Based, believe it or not, on a 1973 short story by master of horror Stephen King, Trucks is actually the second filmic adaptation of this peculiar work, which I can only assume works much better on the page than the screen: 1987’s tongue-in-cheek horror/comedy Maximum Overdrive was actually directed by the author (his first and last foray into that field) and despite universal derision, was perhaps the favourable tone to take, as the only thing genuinely horrific about Trucks is the fact that it ever got made.

Timothy The West Wing Busfield must have been desperate to take on this lazy movie modification, which sees him and a contingent of clueless rednecks become trapped in a dust-ball truck stop by the murderously demented four-wheelers. The trucks (endowed with sentience following a sketchy "toxic spill") joy ride around the gas station’s forecourt, taunting their two-legged adversaries, knocking down signs, honking their horns and flashing their lights at one another to communicate!! It's never really discovered why.

But that isn’t even the epitome of Trucks’ preposterousness: the HGV’s are foiled in their hostile demon-stration by a fatal flaw in their bodywork – without limbs they must still rely on humans to refill their tanks with fuel!! There’s more, still: in a cutaway completely isolated from the main narrative, a postman delivering the morning mail is set upon not by a dog, but a remote control toy truck which trips up the poor man and smashes his head into the curb until he’s dead! Well, at least he didn't have to endure all 95minutes...


In a CR@B Shell: Helmed by inferior drivers, a killer King story careens dangerously off-road and implodes into a lifeless pile of scrap. Steadfastly failing to acknowledge the absurdity in its outlandish sci-fi concept, Trucks plays everything so straight that you’re laughing at it rather than with it.
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Splice Girl

DVD Review: SPLICE
15 – 100mins – 2010
Story by: Vincenzo Natali,
Written by: Vincenzo Natali and Doug Taylor
Directed by: Vincenzo Natali
Starring: Adrien Brody, Sarah Polley, Delphine Chaneac, Brandon McGibbon, David Hewlett, Simona Maicanescu, Abigail Chu
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Faultlessly splicing* together the lowbrow thrills of a blood-soaked horror with the limitless possibilities of the science fiction genre, Vicenzo Cube Natali’s latest piece of visually-resplendent yet cerebrally-satisfying entertainment is a tense, shocking and fascinating creation the like of which David Cronenberg would undoubtedly be proud (if anyone has asked him, or, for that matter, if he’s even seen it).

King Kong’s Brody and Dawn of the Dead’s Polley head up the minimalist cast as Clive Nicoli and Elsa Kast, partners both in their field of genetic engineering and at home. When their corporate firm decides to pull the plug on their medicinal gene-splicing research in favour of a more profitable and less controversial direction, Clive and Elsa secretly take their work one step further and implement human DNA into their next animal hybrid… “Dren”.

As their scientific breakthrough rapidly grows and develops, so too does the swiftly evolving plot. With every scientific step Clive and Elsa conquer, a raft of ethical and moral dilemmas presents themselves: Is their research legal? Are they working out of scientific curiosity or for selfish personal gain? Could they ever reveal Dren to the world? Can they take a life which they created? Is Dren a lab rat, a pet, a child or an equal?

Indie director Natali implements these moral quandaries so fluidly into the pacey and progressive script that you never feel like you are being lectured at, and any inherent social commentary on the danger of crossing the line in our genetically and technologically inquisitive future never overshadows the horrifying, tense and unconventional action (yep, in both senses of the word). Also let me just clarify that, yes, curiosity does indeed kill the cat…

Brody and Polley’s performances are perfectly understated (and, thus, all the more convincing) without lacking the emotional brevity that a film as taxing and affecting as Splice requires, but Delphine Chaneac undeniably steals the show as the not-quite-human anthropomorphic experiment. She brings to the voiceless role a kind and trusting ignorance, whilst never betraying Dren’s alien characteristics (though the wings and tail-stinger certainly help!!).

Even in the downbeat epilogue yet another innovative twist is delivered which opens up yet more room for ethical debate (and the opportunity for a sequel). You may shriek, you may cringe, you may laugh it off as ludicrously far-fetched, but Vincenzo Natali guarantees that Splice will linger in your noggin long after the credits have rolled. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the sign of an all round damn good film.


In a CR@B Shell: A fascinatingly original, cerebrally compelling, visually entertaining and psychologically transfixing creature; Splice achieves so much on such a strict budget, without ever labouring its point or compromising its aim: a modern genre classic.
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* Wow, I got that one in early!!

What Possessed Them?

Cine Review: PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 2
15 – 90mins – 2010
Story by: Michael R. Perry
Screenplay by: Michael R. Perry, Christopher B. Landon, Tom Pabst
Directed by: Tod Williams
Starring: Sprague Grayden, Brian Boland, Molly Ephraim, Tim Clemens, Katie Featherston, Micah Sloat
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[SPOILERS] Last year’s Paranormal Activity was a monster hit in both respects of the phrase. Made on a miniscule budget in one location with a tiny crew and unknown actors, Oren Peli’s supernatural psychological horror was a genuinely distressing affair which left audience’s utterly petrified, without depicting anything more than a crumpled old photograph and a smashed picture frame. God, we’re such wimps!

Given the overwhelmingly positive word of mouth and humungous box office returns, a follow-up really was a no-brainer, even if Katie (Featherstone) and Micah’s (Sloat) story had rather abruptly come to a close. But this wouldn’t be Hollywood if they weren’t able to find some “ingenious” way to capitalise on their properties and squeeze as much money from the brand name as was (in)humanly possible.

So just twelve months later Paranormal Activity 2 takes a bow at the Halloween 2010 box office, although it’s technically a prequel to the original (a bug bear of mine given the numeric implication it is second in the sequence…), expanding upon Katie and Micah’s woes by introducing us to Katie’s sister, Kristi Rey (Grayden), whom we are already aware was plagued by a supernaturally paranoid upbringing.

Presented in an identical handheld/security cam style of “recovered” footage (again without titles or credits, adding a chilling sense of realism by not taking you out of the diegetic reality), this sequel documents the homecoming of Kristi and husband Dan’s (Boland) newborn son Hunter with snapshots of his first months, but the pace slows when the family’s house is broken into (or so they presume) and surveillance cameras are installed to catch any future culprits.

What the hidden cameras detect is far more disconcerting than a random ransacking, however, as pool cleaners miraculously elevate out of the water, Hunter’s baby mobile spins of its own accord, Dan’s teenage daughter Ali (Ephraim) is locked out of the house by a phantom gust of wind and the family’s German Shepard, Abby, is hospitalised after an attack from thin air.

Ali is in equal parts fascinated and freaked by their haunted house as she scours the internet for answers which only hint at the bigger picture, while events take an unsettling slide into the demonic when Kristi is violently dragged by the malevolent spirit into the cellar and re-emerges vacant and unresponsive but with a worryingly protective attitude towards her baby son…

Okay, I’ll admit it: Paranormal Activity 2 was, like its predecessor, a truly tense and jumpy horror. It freaked the hell out of me for hours afterwards; particularly Kristi’s unsettlingly possessed bawls. It was also a remarkably unifying film in that the audience I saw it with seemed to react in harmony with one another. Strangers from across the cinema were calling out in agreement when people screamed or laughed at a faux-thrill. Normally this behaviour would irritate the crap out of me, but in this case it just confirmed that this horror was a resounding and unparalleled success.

But – and this is the crux – as competent as the scares were, at the back of my mind was the niggling query: is this film really necessary? It was clever to interweave the narrative with the original story, granted, but the reasoning for inflicting the original film’s events upon sister Katie was a tad laboured to say the least.

Ultimately, however, this sequel didn’t bring anything new to the table, either: things go bump in the night, again, household appliances move, fall and turn themselves on, again, doors spring open without being pushed, again, a character consults – but ultimately ignores – a ouiji board, again, someone gets pulled forcibly through the house by their leg, again... But other than the family’s housekeeper burning incense and chanting, nobody makes an exerted effort to exorcise the baby-fixated blighter!

Disappointingly, nothing is made of the iconic trailer climax with Hunter visible in the mirror but not in his cot. Furthermore, nothing is made of the creepy message scrawled on the glass, and the often-used image of a hooded Kristi (or is it Katie? Irrelevant now) standing ominously in the nursery doorway is also nowhere to be seen in the film. All this intrigue and mystery came to nothing; a fantastically tantalising trailer which did its job in getting the fans talking, but was ultimately packed with a raft of red herrings...

Surprise, surprise, the actual film’s conclusion was left open for more (and given the opening weekend gross, it is looking more and more likely), but I just hope that Paranormal Activity doesn’t become the new Saw with a new, ever-diminishing entry every Halloween. There are only so many times that an invisible enemy can freak out a cinema full of punters by dropping a pan from a kitchen rack before the paranormal becomes predictably normal.


In a CR@B Shell: Just as frightening as the original, if hardly breaking any new ground in expanding upon Katie and Micah’s story. A sleepless night will follow, but please, Paramount , don’t make a third…
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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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Desert Stormtroopers

DVD Review: HUNTER PREY
15 – 84mins – 2009
Written by: Nick Damon and Sandy Collora
Directed by: Sandy Collora
Starring: Damion Poitier, Clark Bartram, Isaac C. Singleton Jnr, Erin Gray, Simon Potter, Sandy Collora
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Back in 2003 the internet was abuzz with acclaim for an 8 minute short titled Batman: Dead End. Dark, gritty and atmospheric, the fanboy’s wet dream saw the caped crusader apprehend a dangerously unhinged Joker down a grotty back alley, before the pair were set upon by an Alien(!) and a pack of Predators(!!). For a fanmade composition, it was seriously impressive stuff and you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before the director would be offered an opportunity to transfer his talents to the big screen…

7 years later and Hunter Prey is that transfer. Unlike his (multi) established universe-borrowing showreel, Sandy Collora’s feature length debut is an original chronicle and vision, swapping Dead End’s superheroes in the shadows for sci-fi soldiers in sunshine and sand, although it nonetheless makes no attempts to hide the auteur’s obvious stylistic influences. Let’s just call it a homage.

Set in a future engaged in intergalactic war, Hunter Prey hones in on the plight of a small group of soldiers – the survivors of crashed vessel the Prometheus – who must track down their escaped prisoner, Jericho (Clark Bartram), on a barren desert world. It’s a simple cat-and-mouse plot which twists and turns the more you learn about the planetary conflicts which rage amongst the stars, and your allegiance persistently alters as supplies dwindle and the adversary ratio is reduced to 1:1.

Visually, the instantly noticeable influence is classic Star Wars, with the commando’s helmet and armour getup looking like Boba Fett meets Iron Man, and the rocky Mexico location baring more than a passing resemblance to Tatooine: sand, after all, is sand. But tonally the film is more akin to Starship Troopers, Planet of the Apes and the Arnie vs. Predator climax to the original Predator. What we have here is a prime example of pulp science fiction; fun and simple on the outside but intelligent at the core.

With a slim cast of six – one of which is Collara himself, and another the voice of the soldier’s computer intelligence, Clea (Erin Gray) – and an obviously minute budget, Hunter Prey does a fantastic job with limited resources: the special effects (when rendered) do not shake you out of the fantasy, the alien make up is striking, the action is unrestrained and the in-universe aesthetic is worn, torn and believably lived in.

I will admit that it is sometimes a strain to catch exactly what Commander Karza (Issac C. Singleton Jnr) and Lieutenant Centauri 7 (Damion Poitier) are saying beneath their lumbering helmets (an issue confounded by the lack of a subtitle track on the DVD), but otherwise Hunter Prey is a satisfying small scale sci-fi success, provided you aren’t expecting OTT spectacle on a galactic budget.


In a CR@B Shell: A bold and ambitious future-vision which makes the most of a small cast and even smaller budget. Hunter Prey is a remarkable debut which suggests grander things are to come for Sandy Collora.
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The Empire Strides Back

DVD Review: CENTURION
15 – 93mins – 2010
Written by: Neil Marshall
Directed by: Neil Marshall
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Dominic West, Olga Kurylenko, Ulrich Thomsen, Noel Clarke, David Morrissey, JJ Field, Liam Cunningham, Riz Ahmed, Imogen Poots, Ryan Atkinson
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Following the stellar double whammy of Dog Soldiers (2002) and The Descent (2005) – not to mention a near messianic level of admiration from Total Film magazine – it is a surprise to me that writer and director Neil Marshall’s subsequent releases (2008’s Doomsday and this year's Centurion) have been released to little fanfare. Indeed, Centurion’s cinema release must have been so limited it totally passed me by!

Sticking with his trusted blueprint of pitting an ever-diminishing band of heroes against a much larger and seemingly unconquerable enemy, Marshall here swaps the supernatural for the quasi-historical – although we’re still very much in his comfort zone of Scotland (Marshall’s beloved homeland and locale for all his previous films), even if it is known as Caledonia back in 117 AD.

Turning the tables on our expectations and favouring the invaders of the sword-slashing, armour-donning Roman Empire over the native, spear-throwing, warpaint-wearing Celtic Picts, Marshall mines the ambiguous legend of the ill-fated Ninth Legion (which was the film’s working title) for gritty, battle-heavy action/thriller gold.

According to historians (and lazy researcher’s best friend, Wikipedia), the 4,000 strong Roman legion marched into Scotland and just disappeared, never to be heard from again... Marshall creatively surmises that the military failure was wiped from the history books to keep the Roman governor of Britannia's record untainted, after a Pict sect lead by a mute, vengance-fuelled warrior (Olga Quantum of Solace Kurylenko) slayed the invading army for murdering their chief's (Ulrich The World Is Not Enough Thomsen) young son (Ryan Atkinson). Lovely chaps.

Yet here we are, siding with the pillaging Roman's, whose motley crew of seven Everyman survivors – lead by centurion Quintus Dias (Michael Hunger Fassbender) – first march north to rescue their captured commander (Dominic 300 West) from the Pict settlement, then head south (via the west, naturally: tactics, people!) to the supposed safety of their fortified garrison. It's a simple plot unburdened by too much character detail.

What Centurion does offer a lot of, however, is walking. Even when the two forces aren't walking towards one another, they're chasing after one another, weapons in hand and revenge in their eyes. And when the chase is up, they're fighting one another. Relentlessly. You see, Centurion also offers a grandiose amount of fighting, and Marshall doesn't skimp on the more spectacularly savage money shots. Many a head is separated from body, eye gouged out and limb hacked off – and we see every bloody strike and slash.

Away from the blistering action, the film’s washed out blue-grey palette, coupled with its misty woodland-shrouded landscapes and swooping aerial views of the Scottish Highlands, lend Centurion an epic and atmospheric quality similar to the obviously comparable Gladiator (2000). Although Neil Marshall's brisk and slimline 93 minute sprint will not remain as iconic as Ridley Scott's drawn out marathon, Centurion does deliver exactly what you would expect from a genre piece carrying the tagline "Fight or Die".


CR@B Verdict: Grisly, grimy and with gallons of gore, Centurion may not be perfect but what it lacks in brains it more than makes up for in brawn: Neil Marshall’s latest is a straight-up slice of hardcore popcorn entertainment.
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Sly and the Family Stocky

Cine Review: THE EXPENDABLES
15 – 103mins – 2010
Story by: David Callaham
Screenplay by: David Callaham and Sylvester Stallone
Directed by: Sylvester Stallone
Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Jet Li, Eric Roberts, Gisele Itié, David Zayas, Dolph Lundgren, Randy Couture, Steve Austin, Terry Crews, Mickey Rourke, Charisma Carpenter, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Bruce Willis
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In a balls-out, idol-starring, action beat ‘em up extravaganza up like The Expendables, does anybody really give two hoots about the plot? You know, the talky bits in-between the blood letting, bone crushing, car chasing and cameo spotting. No? Thought not. Okay, well I’ll make this as quick as I can then:

The film is named after a team of tough guy mercenaries, lead by Barney Ross (Stallone), who all have skills in different types of combat: martial arts (Li), blades (Statham), weapons (Crews), bombs (Couture) and sniper rifles (Lundgren). The Expendables are hired by the enigmatic “ Mr Church ” (Willis) to overthrow a dictator (Zayas) on the fictional Mexican island of Vilena .

Much fighting, exploding and rescuing ensues as the team realise “Mr Church” isn’t who they believed him to be, and Vilena is actually under the control of ex-CIA agent James Munroe (Roberts), who has recruited Lundgren’s aggrieved ex-Expendable, Jensen, to work alongside his henchmen Paine (Austin) and The Brit (Daniels) and take the dictator’s daughter (Itié) hostage.

If that lost you then you need to go back to school – but fear not: you’ll still be cheering at the frantic action, sniggering at the team’s torrent of spiky banter (“It’s not easy being green,” “He wants to be President,” “That’s a statement,” “Warning shot!”) and dribbling with sadistic glee as digital blood splatters the walls, the body count rises exponentially and planes destroy harbours in floods of flames. Forget narrative logic, this is one visceral and testosterone pumped thrill ride – and that’s what people came for, right? That, and Schwarzenegger’s sixty scene-stealing seconds.

In a film not exactly celebrated for its acting talent (muscles and star power are definitely the bigger draw), comeback king Mickey Rourke – under an ultraviolet lamp with the camera zoomed in close to his quivering lips and tear-drenched eyes – delivers an astonishingly heart wrenching monologue as former teammate Tool, about turning his back on a woman’s suicide in Bosnia. The scene is unlike anything else in The Expendables, and it adds a glimmer of substance to the shallow OTT spectacle.

Not that there’s anything wrong with shallow OTT spectacle; the film truly explodes to life the minute a punch is thrown, a shabbily CGI-ed fire is ignited or a bullet is shot, but it is in the quieter moments (Rourke’s monologue aside) that the film looses its edge and you just wait for it all to kick off again.

Regrettably, even with their alleged “specialities” the characters are all very much of a muchness and if they weren’t all über famous action stars, you’d have trouble telling muscle from muscle. You may even say they're all *whisper it* expendable...


CR@B Verdict: Booms, bangs, blades, bullets, brawls, banter, blood, baaaaad CGI, a bevy of bad-ass action stars and a definite whiff of brie – The Expendables is the ultimate “B” movie. It won’t be to everybody’s taste, but if you go in expecting nothing more accomplished, you won’t be disappointed.
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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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Invasion of the Dream Extractors

Cine Review: INCEPTION
12A – 148mins – 2010
Written by: Christopher Nolan
Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ellen Page, Tom Hardy, Ken Watanabe, Dileep Rao, Cillian Murphy, Tom Berenger, Marion Cotillard, Pete Postlethwaite, Michael Caine, Lukas Haas
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Christopher Nolan certainly likes to have fun bewildering his audience. Whether it's playing with the laws of time (as he did by playing Memento's narrative backwards) or science (real magicians magic-up a parade of clones in The Prestige), you know that every film the Batman Begins director has crafted is an intrinsically constructed labyrinth which requires your full and unwavering attention to journey from the opening titles to the exit sign of the end credits.

His latest mind-bending cinematic experience is no different. Inception delves into the subconscious and makes the indefinite dreamscape its multi-layered, physically unconfined play pen. Streets stretch upwards, stairs are never-ending, trains smash across roads and buildings bend in on themselves in some truly awe-inspiring sequences soundtracked by Han Zimmer's epic synth orchestration – but Inception's substance is equally as impressive as its out-of-this-world style, and nothing is ever included just because it looks cool.

Leonardo DiCaprio plays Dom Cobb, a skilled “extractor” – a spy who can infiltrate other people's dreams to steal their ideas – whose repressed guilt over his tragic past has seen him sacrifice his old life and still threatens to sabotage every new mission he accepts. The 'shade' of his dead wife, Mal (Marion Cotillard), haunts Cobb's mind with vicious intent – can he ever overcome his grief and dream in peace?

Cobb and fellow extractor Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) are charged with their most difficult case to date: to implant rather than extract an idea into banking heir Robert Fischer's (Cillian Murphy) dreams; an idea which will see their mark dissolve his deceased father's (Pete Postlethwaite) company. In exchange for this act of corporate espionage, their client (Ken Watanabe) offers Cobb carte blanche; he will legally be able to return home and be with his children once more.

Cobb and Arthur reassemble their team of specialists – including sedative chemist Yusuf (Dileep Rao) and form-changing 'Forger' Eames (Tom Hardy) – whilst simultaneously training student-come-dreamscape 'Architect' Ariadne (Ellen Page). The newcomer's ignorance allows the audience an introduction to the mind-boggling, scientifically bonkers internal logic which holds the film together. It's lazy – but essential – exposition; Ariadne asks all the questions we're silently screaming at the screen, and we completely identify with her initial resistance, but Nolan's creation is just too alluring to resist.

Intercepting Fischer on a ten hour flight, the Extractors connect themselves up to the sedative-administering device and dive straight in to his rain-drenched dreamworld. From herein, Inception becomes a sci-fi heist movie (even the climax is set within an illusory bank vault), with the secondary players (specifically quick-witted Eames) providing light relief from the seriousness of the morally-corrupt mission. Truth be told, beyond assisting in plot formalities and reacting to Cobb's troubled moods as he battles his personal demons, there is little else for the team to do besides banter, but they do it well: granting personalities to these two-dimensional characters.

Although bound to its mechanical constraints, Inception is a technically accomplished epic blockbuster which covers all corners: intelligent, action-packed, visually gorgeous and original. Furthermore, the acting is first rate: Hardy provides a spirited turn bouncing off of Gordon-Levitt with glee, and Page is as plucky as ever, while DiCaprio impressed me just as much as he did in Shutter Island – another film where his intense burdens threaten to defeat him.

Sure, there are some flaws to the logic-disregarding diegesis: people are entering other people's dreams for gawd's sake (and I'm not entirely satisfied with the sudden "oh yeah, you'll be sent to limbo" contrivance, considering for the first hour of the film we were told that to wake from a dream you simply had to be 'killed'. Perhaps a second watch will quell my concerns?), but Inception is such a brave, immaculately constructed, boundary-crumbling vision that you're totally engaged and inspired nonetheless. And besides, when do dreams ever make complete sense?


CR@B Verdict: A refreshingly original imaginarium, Inception requires your full attention as it layers on the internal logic and decorates it with stunningly mindboggling landscapes and exhilarating set-pieces. You may find yourself lost in the dreamworld – but you certainly won't fall asleep. Three cheers for 'Architect' Nolan.
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Love, Flux and Magic

Cine Review: THE SORCERER'S APPRENTICE
PG – 148mins – 2010
Story by: Lawrence Konner, Mark Rosenthal and Matt Lopez
Screenplay by: Matt Lopez, Doug Miro and Carlo Bernard
Directed by: John Turteltaub
Starring: Nicolas Cage, Jay Baruchel, Alfred Molina, Teresa Palmer, Toby Kebbell, Omar Benson Miller, Monica Bellucci, Alice Krige
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In an industry seemingly bereft of original ideas, where ninety percent of the big-money output is either an adaptation, remake, sequel, prequel or reimagining (Inception the exception which proves the rule), here we have a film inspired by a cartoon, adapted from a lyric, which started life as a poem. Phew.

For the unacquainted, The Sorcerer's Apprentice was originally penned by German poet Goethe waaaaaay back in 1797, before Paul Dukas put it to music a century later and Walt Disney animated it (with a few, ahem, stylistic flourishes) as that mop-dancing sequence in 1940's trippy musical Fantastia.

Misty-eyed over his childhood love of the epic Mickey Mouse opera, it was Hollywood big shot Nicolas Cage's idea to once again bring the source material to the big screen. And here we are today, with an A-list starring, CGI-filled 21st century summer blockbuster from the powerhouse National Treasure trinity of star Cage, director John Turteltaub and über producer Jerry Bruckheimer.

As is the custom with these mythology-steeped extravaganzas, we aren't just thrown head-first into the action but are eased in by means of a vivid, voice-over-guided montage. We are introduced to an ensemble of outlandishly monikered, age-resilient wizards (Balthazar Blake, Maxim Horvath, Morgana Le Fay), a myriad of vital keywords ("Prime Merlinian" – a sorcerer in Merlin's bloodline) and a magical MacGuffin ("Grimhold" – a Russian Doll which traps the spirits of evil magicians). Set in the year 740AD, it's a dizzying prologue which really suffers from exposition overload.

Shoot forward to the present day and destiny has caught up with Balthazar (Cage). Merlin's trusted apprentice is still on his century's long quest for a sorcerer powerful enough to wear a dragon ring and defeat the evil Morgana (Alice Krige) – imprisoned at the centre of the Grimhold – before rogue traitor Horvath (Alfred Molina) can unleash her and bring hell to New York City. Enter timid university psychics geek Dave (Jay Baruchel), whose extreme knowledge of all things molecular and high-voltage means he is the right man for the rubber-soled shoes; the Prime Merlinean.

The remainder of the film's mammoth 148 minute runtime whizzes past in splendidly overt and engaging fashion: Balthazar teaches his nervous new apprentice how to control the elements, while Dave is more interested in controlling the heart of a girl (Teresa Palmer) he embarrassed himself in front of 10 years previous. Meanwhile, Horvath finds himself a vainglorous modern-day TV magic man (Toby Kebbell) to dispence of young Dave and reclaim the Grimhold (you'll get used to hearing that word soon enough).

If you mull things over for too long you'll become bogged down in the overly multifaceted plot, which is further hindered by a deluge of outrageous idioms and the fact that half of the characters are constantly referred to yet remain off-screen until the cosmic final showdown. For instance: Balthazar's love, Veronica (Monica Bellucci), is also trapped inside the Grimhold, having swallowed Morgana's soul in 740AD.

Despite these flaws, The Sorcerer's Apprentice does successfully manage to deliver a fun fantasy experience brimming with some exemplary special effects (a giant steel eagle and a Chinatown parade dragon becoming flesh are two highlights) which don't drown out either the film's humour or heart. It's a winning balance.

I have never been a fan of Nicolas Cage's monotone acting style – he just never seems interested in anything – but I can't really knock his performance here. Perhaps his interest in the source material spurred a more spirited turn from the Face/Off star? Despite remaining off my radar for far too long, imposing Brit actor Alfred Molina is slowly piquing my interest with every sly, underhanded character he plays, while Jay Baruchel simply is a scrawny, nerdy stutterer – though he doesn't hold a magic mop to Mickey.


CR@B Verdict: A loud n' frivolous summer Bruck-buster which will keep all ages amused, if not always clued in to the unnecessarily complex story. Apprentice will struggle to be as iconic as the adaptations which inspired it, but it'll definitely keep you entertained.
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Teenage Licks

DVD Review: MARTIN (1977)
18 – 91mins – 2010
Written and directed by: George A. Romero
Starring: John Amplas, Lincoln Maazel, Christine Forrest, Elayne Nadeau, Tom Savini
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[SPOILERS] Independent horror maestro George A. Romero swaps living dead flesh-eaters for undead blood-suckers in this terrifically kooky slice of 70s horror spliced with teenage drama, which has recently been restored, remastered and re-released on a stunning 2-disc “Immortal Edition” by the committed cult horror aficionados at Arrow Video.

“Vamps and angst,” I hear you cry, “again?!” But before you form any unfair premature opinions, let me reassure you that Martin is a totally different beast to both Twilight (2008) and Let The Right One In (2009). What makes this little known underdog stand out from the pack is its clever subversion of Hollywood conventions, keeping the audience questioning and guessing as to its ambiguous intentions throughout.

The youthful protagonist (John Amplas; eerily effective) is a torridly shy, awkward and alienated lad who just so happens to have a lust for murdering girls and drinking their plasmic juices. But whether you believe Martin really is an 84 year old Nosferatu in need of a soul cleansing exorcism – as his hostile and superstitious uncle, Tada Cuda (Lincoln Maazel) obsessively believes – or just a severely tormented and mentally disturbed teen crying out for attention, is up to you to decide.

Romero's deliriously inconclusive script, coupled with a disorientating editing style, leaves judgement open for multifaceted critiques: Garlic, sunlight and crucifixes have no effect on this fangless monster. Martin is very much a realist tale devoid of hocus pocus and typically overblown vampiric lore: “There is no magic,” as the lead points out. He even requires a needle full of drugs to knock his victims out before stripping them naked and raping them of their blood in two unpleasantly sensual murder scenes. Can anyone say sexually repressed?

Yet conversely, the present day narrative is disrupted by overly theatrical black and white cutaways to Martin in gothic, candlelit scenarios which could easily have been lifted straight out of a 1950s Monster Movie. Romero is eschewing clichéd filmic conventions while drawing attention to his indie production's strangeness – but to what end? Are they stylistic flashbacks to the vampire's earlier existence, or merely the deluded fantasies of a tormented kid obsessed with B-movies and subjected to the appalling, twisted hokum of his ludicrously crazy family?

Simultaneously unsettling, subdued and tragic, Martin is George A. Romero on top film-making form – and there isn't a zombie in sight. A stunning and radical beast which will confound as many viewers as it enthrals; I guarantee you will be thinking about this curio long after the shockingly abrupt ending. Much like Romero's catalogue of masterpieces, Martin has a disturbing, dualistic quality which invites repeat viewings.


CR@B Verdict: Harrowing, horrific, yet still intrinsically human, Martin is an enthralling psychological portrait of a troubled teen. In typical Romero fashion, populist expectations are subverted into an unorthodox and provoking indie gem.
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Dusting off Old Friends

Cine-review: TOY STORY 3 – IN 3D
U – 103mins – 2010
Story devised by: John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich
Screenplay written by: Michael Arndt
Directed by: Lee Unkrich
Starring the voice talents of: Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Ned Beatty, Don Rickles, Michael Keaton, Wallace Shawn, John Ratzenberger, Estelle Harris, John Morris, Jodi Benson, Laurie Metcalf, Blake Clark, Whoopi Goldberg
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It happens to us all: The toys and games which shaped our childhood and we just couldn’t go anywhere without are more-and-more frequently disregarded and eventually relegated to the bottom of a dusty old toy box as the years pass by, our minds blossom and our tastes mature. This isn’t to say that we don’t have fond memories of our bygone treasures (I still know where all of my Jurassic Park action figures are, for instance: car boot sale be damned!), but playtime just doesn’t mean the same thing when you’re approaching adulthood.

Thankfully, the same isn’t true of films, where the on-screen magic can be revived every time you press play: a time capsule forever preserved on disc (or videotape). Admittedly we do sometimes revisit the movies which had us glued to the screens for endless viewings as we were growing up, only to find the rose-tinted spectacles have discoloured and we’re embarrassed to admit we once fervently enjoyed Muppet Treasure Island (don't judge me), but the true classics, the ones which capture our imagination, tickle our funny bones and stir an emotional connection – of which I am including Toy Story (1995) and its stellar 1999 sequel – will stand the test of time and still enthral no matter how old our mind, body or soul.

Perhaps it is this podiumisation (is that even a phrase? Well it is now) of Pixar's flagship franchise which had the 26 year old me a mite concerned that revisiting Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz (Tim Allen), Jessie (Joan Cusack) and the gang over a decade after Toy Story 2 may tarnish the precision which preceded it: how could John Lasseter et al better perfection? Would this belated entry be an over-egged plod through stale plot lines? Would Lee Unkrich's first solo shot at directing become The Godfather: Part III of this popular pixelated trilogy? Had Toy Story reached its shelf life?

To answer these doubts as succinctly as I can: no, no and no again – no to infinity and beyond, if you will. C’mon: this is Pixar we’re talking about. Try naming even one of their films which is anything less than glorious? Even my least favourite of their commendable catalogue wasn’t a total Cars-crash, and their first threequel isn’t in any danger of diminishing their brand name.

The key to the super-studio’s eleventh feature film’s success is that Toy Story 3 has grown up with its audience, but not shed an iota of its charm along the way: like us, Andy (still voiced by original voice actor John Morris) is no longer the cowboy-obsessed youth with an overactive imagination, but a 17 year old lad on the verge of departing for college. His ever-loyal but depleting assortment of living playthings, shut away in a chest but desperate for attention, are facing the very same dilemma I set out in the opening paragraph: will they be sent to the attic to waste away with the Christmas decorations, get thrown away in the trash or be donated to another home where they will be played with once more? After all, these immortal accessories can't physically grow up – so they are plagued with apprehension over becoming obsolete and unloved.

Adult concerns, then. But fun for all ages. Toy Story 3 is still bright, uproarious family entertainment of the unparalleled quality we have come to know and expect from Pixar, but with a heart which belies the hard exterior of these plastic and vinyl characters. The result is a satisfying whole, a cornucopia or emotions which takes you on that most clichéd of cinematic tropes: a rollercoaster ride. From the adrenaline-pumped highs of a full scale Wild West fantasy (replete with Hamm-shaped spacecraft and Slinky Dog force field) to the heartbreaking lows of a rain-soaked montage revealing what made Lotso-Huggins Bear (Ned Beatty) the bitter and autocratic teddy he has become.

All of your favourite characters get their fair share of comedy highlights (Mr. Potato Head’s resourceful replacement body and Buzz’s default mode are two standout moments); no toy is left behind or overshadowed – except maybe in a fight for your affections – despite an abundance of colourful new faces added to the eclectic ensemble as Andy's mementos are mistakenly donated to Sunnyside Daycare, where “fun” awaits 5 days a week. But will self-appointed over-lord Lotso willingly let the new recruits leave this dystrophic nightmare of hyperactive toddlers, paint pots and glitter sticks? Cue a wonderfully orchestrated jailbreak sequence which is every bit as inventive and iconic as The Great Escape.

Fittingly for this Return of the King of the Toy Story trilogy, the climatic set-piece takes place in an enormous and mountainous junk yard with a giant trash-burning incinerator every bit as epic and ominous as Peter Jackson's visualisation of the lava-filled pits of Tolkien's Mount Doom . It far outclasses Toy Story 2's airport escapade, which always slightly niggled given its far-fetched nature (in a film with living toys; I know...). The moment when the gang hold hands in melancholic acceptance as they edge closer to the flames is a truly adult touch of humanity. Dark, yes, especially for the little ‘uns, but strikingly universal.

On a final note: yes, Toy Story 3 is animated in 3D, but not in a gimmicky lets-jump-on-Avatar’s-bandwagon fashion. There aren’t any marbles bursting out of a bag and flying towards the screen, for instance, but by putting on the Real-D glasses you are granted an added dimension which further brings these sentient inanimates to life and engrosses you in their intricate world filled with everyday dangers; the sandpit really feels like a mammoth trek across Sunnyside’s playground; the vending machine a daunting ascent to the heavens and the encroaching incinerator actually leaves you with a palpable sense of dread. But regardless of how many dimensions you view the film in, there is still much gorgeous detail to appreciate in every captivating frame and you are guaranteed to leave the cinema with a smile on your face, a lump in your throat, a warm glow in your belly and your batteries fully recharged.

Wait – what do you mean only toys have batteries?!


CR@B Verdict: Sublime, joyous, flawless; I could reel off a long list of glowing superlatives for Toy Story 3 and still not state strongly enough just how darn-tootin' good this film is. At the end of the day you just have to watch it for yourself. Repeatedly. With plenty of tissues.
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Fangs, Fur & Pheromones

Cine-review: THE TWILIGHT SAGA: ECLIPSE
12A – 123mins – 2010
Screenplay by: Melissa Rosenberg
Based on the 2007 novel by: Stephanie Meyer
Directed by: David Slade
Starring: Kristen Stewart, Robert Pattinson, Taylor Lautner, Bryce Dallas Howard, Xavier Samuel, Billy Burke, Ashley Greene, Peter Facinelli, Kellan Lutz, Nikki Reed, Jackson Rathbone, Dakota Fanning, Sarah Clarke
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I have read a number of reviews for this third silver screen adaptation of Stephanie Meyer’s bazillion-selling Twilight saga. A lot of people – or their girlfriend’s – have opinions on it, natch. Every single one of these critical appraisals has cited Eclipse as far and away the best film of the series (so far). By no means a faultless or perfect movie, but far more accomplished than its two plodding predecessors (both of which, tellingly, had different directors). Having now watched David 30 Days of Night Slade’s vision of the teen vamp/werewolf romance, I am going to say something controversial. Brace yourselves, Twi-hards… I actually preferred Twilight (2008) and New Moon (2009). There, I said it.

No, before you ask: I have not read any of the books in the series. I have been told that I will appreciate the nuances of the films more once I have (and hopefully a myriad of questions - like why the hell the vampires seem to be made of crystal and “crack” when they are killed? - will be answered), but I refuse to believe it is a necessity; the films should stand up on their own, rather than as flashy and expensive advertisements for their prose counterparts. Besides, this isn't The Da Vinci Code we’re talking about, where countless passages of vital canonical research and Art History back story are edited out or crammed into a split-second of film in order to preserve a humane runtime; this is a teenage fantasy with vampires and werewolves.

The plot, for the unacquainted minority such as I, follows on directly from that which was set up in the previous instalments: Avenging the death of her pack mate (as visualised in Twilight), red-headed vampire Victoria (Bryce Dallas Howard, an almost imperceptible replacement for Rachelle Laferve) is in Seattle, raising an undead army of ferocious newborns to kill American High School-er Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) and break the heart of her vampire lover, Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson). The Cullen clan begrudgingly agree to a temporary alliance with their lycanthropic enemies in order to take down Victoria and destroy her newborn army, lead by murdered Riley Biers (Xavier Samuel), while Edward and Bella hide out. In the mountains. In a snowstorm. In a tent.

Intertwined with the conflict and action is the saga’s staple serving of romance and melodrama, as Bella is convinced she wants to be turned into a vampire to live her (after)life with Edward – yet she is unsure if, at 18 years-old, she is quite ready to marry him yet!! This may have something to do with her overprotective policeman father, Charlie (Billy Burke), who is, understandably, none-too-keen on the union, or it may have something to do with her best friend – the shirt-phobic, night-howler Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner) – who admits he too is head-over-paws in love with our everywoman protagonist. Fangs or fur? Decisions, decision, Miss Swan…

While David Slade does an adequate job with the threequel’s larger scale and more intense battle sequences (even if the CGI werewolves still don’t quite convince – and what is with them “popping” in and out of lupine form?), it is in the quieter, soppier moments that Eclipse repelled me. Yes, I know I’m neither the key demographic or gender, but I didn’t squirm this much in Twilight or New Moon. Perhaps it is the darting from dark tension to light yearning; from fighting to fawning; from Seattle to Forks; which frequently jolted me out of my engagement with the film? Furthermore, I found the scenes with Bella and Edward laying loved-up in a meadow musing on love, sex and marriage to be excruciatingly awkward (akin to many of the criticisms levelled at Christenson and Portman in Attack of the Clones), which is doubly unexcusable given the star’s real life relationship.

Actors who did impress me were Ashley Greene as clairvoyant Cullen, Alice, and Jackson Rathbone as her "blood brother” and head battle trainer Jasper. Both actors bring the requisite peculiarity to their vampiric characters, both physically and in their off-kilter delivery, even if they are sidelined far too often in lieu of the star trio. Eclipsed (ho ho!) also are the Volturi, the powerful, age-old sect of vampires who lose any menace they accrued in New Moon by spending the entire film waiting in the wings. Guided by Dakota Fanning’s vacant Jane, they come across as a coven of self-important kids, only entering the climatic battle after it is over. How noble…

Finally, a tributary story fleshing out Rosalie Hale’s (Nikki Reed) tragic death and transformation via a mournful monologue and montage seemed a redundant attempt to darken the teen love story with a controversially edgy adult tone (Rosalie was raped and killed by her drunken fiancé), merely to provide leverage to the outstandingly obvious: that Bella is making a huuuuuge mistake by wanting to sacrifice her heartbeat for an eternity with Edward. And no, before you ask: that doesn’t mean I’m siding with “Team Jacob”, either…


CR@B Verdict: David Slade doesn’t alter much to the Twilight formula in bringing the third novel to the big screen. More epic in scale but more flitting in plot, Eclipse left me shaken but unstirred by its battles of the body and heart.
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The Tension and the Smart

DVD Review: SMART PEOPLE
15 – 91mins – 2008
Written by: Mark Jude Poirier
Directed by: Noam Murro
Starring: Dennis Quaid, Sarah Jessica Parker, Ellen Page, Thomas Haden Church , Ashton Holmes
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Sometimes the smartest people have the most to learn

So reads the tagline to this quirky indie comedy drama from the producer of quirky indie comedy drama Sideways (2004), and such a seemingly paradoxical statement has never been more accurate than when you are first introduced to the lead protagonists in Noam Murro’s debut feature film, Smart People: Lawrence Wetherhold (Dennis Quaid) is an arrogant and apathetic English literature professor who has lived with his haughty, smart alec loner of a daughter, Vanessa (Ellen Page), since his wife died some years ago and his suppressed son, James (Ashton Holmes), moved away to college to spread his wings.

Lawrence ’s adopted brother, Chuck (Thomas Haden Church), is an indolent, unemployed free-loader who nevertheless never lets his dire situation get him down. Against Lawrence ’s wishes, Chuck ends up moving in to chez Wetherhold at the same time that the miserly college proff starts dating Janet Hartigan (Sarah Jessica Parker), a former student who treats Lawrence at the hospital after a minor accident. That is pretty much it in the way of plot, but Mark Jude Poirier’s witty script energizes the eccentric characters with sharp dialogue and zinging banter as this small scale character piece unfolds: Will Lawrence ever be able to love again? Will Vanessa ever learn to ‘chillax’ like a 17-year-old should? And will Chuck ever be able to stand on his own two feet? Oh, the angst!

It is a testament to the quality of the actors involved that you warm to these wholly unlikeable characters. Page and Haden Church are particularly engaging; spunky, acid-tongued Vanessa and her zany party animal of an (adopted) uncle’s polar personalities spark and clash in surprisingly unexpected, unconventional and unexceptable ways. Perhaps the key to the film’s success is that, underneath all the barbed comments and unsociable attitudes, these are recognisable people and their relationships are astutely observed. We could all learn a thing or two from Smart People.


CR@B Verdict: Bear with these pretentious brain boxes and they’ll win you over as they learn their most valuable lessons outside a classroom. With lesser performances this skeletal film could have fallen flat, but the repartee between the ensemble cast make Smart People a smart choice.
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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

Arabian Delights

Cine-review: PRINCE OF PERSIA : THE SANDS OF TIME
12A – 116mins – 2010
Screenplay by: Boaz Yarkin, Doug Miro, Carlo Bernard
Screenstory and videogame by: Jordan Mechner
Directed by: Mike Newell
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Gemma Arterton, Ben Kingsley, Alfred Molina, Richard Coyle, Toby Kebbell, Reece Ritchie, Ronald Pickup
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Another media-hopping blockbuster videogame adaptation from the director of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, produced by the man behind Pirates of the Caribbean and looking distinctly Mummy-like in tone? To say I went into Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time open-minded but hardly optimistic of anything approaching originality, is an understatement. And yet, upon leaving the cinema, I had to confess that I thoroughly enjoyed this swiftly-paced medieval fantasy adventure; even if you have to take hulked-up leading man Jake Gyllenhaal’s uneven accent with a giant pinch of, err, sand…

The man that was Donnie Darko is now the adopted and energetic Prince Dastan (an absolute spit of his pixelated counterpart), a former street urchin with a penchant for basejumping and disobeying his older brother’s orders regarding an attack on Princess Tamina’s (Gemma Arteton, who needn’t have bothered changed out of her Clash of the Titans wardrobe) innocent city. Framed for his father – the King’s (Ronald Pickup) – murder, Dastan and the cagey Tamina go on the run to prove his innocence and uncover the truth behind the dastardly plot to steal the mystical Dagger of Time and rule the world…

Opening on a map of the ancient world, overlaid with grandiose “A long time ago in lands far away” narration and an Arabian-stringed score from Harry Gregson-Williams, I feared cliché overload, however as the energetic action picks up and you aren’t sure who to trust, the film bucks formula and genuinely surprises on a number of occasions, twisting and turning like a snake up your sleeve. All of the supporting cast are a joy to watch, particularly Richard Coupling Coyle as Prince Tas, who really steps up well from sitcom funnyman, shadowy Ben Kinsley as nobleman Uncle Nizam, and a truly hilarious turn from an almost recognisable Alfred Molina as the likeable scoundrel Sheik Amar, who makes his money from racing ostriches!

Sure, some of the dialogue is a touch ropey and the screenplay is crammed with repeated exposition, but what do you expect from a film about a mystical dagger with the godly ability to rewind time? It hardly speaks for itself! At other times the script positively zings with likeable banter between the eye-candy leads, and Molina keeps the laughs coming simply by "talking too much" as his frustration mounts and he gets unwillingly dragged along on the dangerous mission.

The zooming and swooping camerawork, as well as an irritating application of slow-motion to add a sense of the dramatic to the swashbuckling battle scenes, do take some getting used to, but I guess they are merely a by-product of the film’s flashy, videogame origins. Thankfully both techniques are not used excessively and you are granted a good gawp at the gorgeous landscapes and ancient bazaars. The film also doesn’t overindulge on CGI or ludicrously monstrous foes (Stephen Sommers, take note), aside from the impressive depiction of the dagger’s released sand swirling, magicking and reversing the flow of time. It’s a refreshingly muted decision for a big-money blockbuster, allowing for the jamboree of characters to shine through, provided you can get past Jake’s dubious enunciation…


CR@B Verdict: Prince of Persia is a startling jewel in the rough landscape of videogame adaps. It is harmless, easily accessible popcorn fun, even to the generation who think a platformer is a type of shoe and a joystick is, well, very rude indeed…
****

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.
*