Cod Melville

DVD Review: AGE OF THE DRAGONS
12 – 91mins – 2011
Story by: Gil Aglaure and Anne Black
Based on the novel “Moby Dick” by Herman Melville
Screenplay by: McKay Daines
Directed by: Ryan Little
Starring: Danny Glover, Vinnie Jones, Corey Sevier, Sofia Pernas, Larry Bagby, Kepa Kruse, David Morgan
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Like Easy A, Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You before it, Age of the Dragons is a contemporary filmic reimagining of a classic prose tale which bears little discernible resemblance to its long-treasured source. Unlike Easy A, Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You, however, Age of the Dragons is a spiritless and complaisant slog which, beneath its medieval exterior, is far too tied to Herman Melville’s Great American Novel, much to its own detriment.

Taking the skeletal essence of Moby Dick and burying it in an archaic fantasy land where dragons, not whales, are the burdensome beasts hunted and harpooned for their highly sought-after natural resource (the fiery neon catalyst vitriol, in this case, rather than blubber), Ryan Little’s low budget genre piece tells the story of Captain Ahab’s (Glover) vengeance-motivated lifelong hunt for the great white dragon which killed his sister and left him a mentally and physically scarred husk of man.

Told, like the novel, from the perspective of dashing-but-wholly-uninteresting wanderer Ishmael (Sevier), Age of the Dragons fails to make the most of its mystical snow-steeped vistas and limitless fantasy palette, delivering a flat, grey and emotionless story which lacks vigour and imagination. Despite a limited budget, the CGI – when employed – is passable if economical at rendering the winged prey, but it is the humans which let this direct-to-video release down.

The acting fluctuates from corny over enthusiasm (Glover's garishly unstable cap'n; a bubbly but criminally underused Jones) to monotone amateur disinterest (pretty much everyone else). It's a shame the film's tone sticks much closer to the latter than the former, feeling almost completely soulless and lacking any humour to complement its fantastical frivolity. For anyone who thought Season of the Witch was bad (which I didn't – see my review HERE); that looks like an Oscar winning masterpiece next to this second rate tosh.

If Ishmael's insipid flirtation with Ahab's adopted daughter, Rachel (Pernas), wasn't bland enough, his enigmatic right-hand man, Queequay (Kruse), is a constant impenetrable aggravation, too. Clearly superfluous to this cut-price adap, he morphs from being a mute mystery in the first half to a mystical guru who won't shut up with his vapid stoner “logic” in the second. Furthermore, his reasons for steering clear of the grand cavern showdown are weak to the point of contrivance and the film would have benefited greatly from having Vinnie Jones' banterful Stubb's hang around to the end in place of this soporific bore.

But most irksome of all is story drafter's Aglaure and Black's uninspired translation of Ahab’s whaleship, the Pequod, which here becomes a cumbersome earth-bound craft comparable to a primitive Dead Reckoning in Land of the Dead, rolling through the tundra protected (scarcely) by a row of decorative shields nailed to its rickety wooden exterior. Quite how it was powered in an pre-technological society, though, I'm thoroughly stumped. It feels like a lazy fix (indeed one of many in the film) to allow this dragon hunting caravan of landlubbers to travel together yet still use shipping terminology such as “deck” and “vessel”.


In a CR@B Shell: Anything but a whale of a time, Age of the Dragons is a disengaging and hollow experience despite its treasured source and vivid landscape. A lazy, tedious and clichéd beast, the film is as awkward and clunky as its title (surely “The Age of Dragons” or simply “Age of Dragons” would have been more pithy?), and it can't even blame its low budget on its multitude of flaws.
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Victory Loves Preparation

DVD Review: THE MECHANIC
15 – 88mins – 2011
Screenplay by: Richard Wenk and Lewis John Carlino
Based on the 1972 film written by: Lewis John Carlino
Directed by: Simon West
Starring: Jason Statham, Ben Foster, Tony Goldwyn, Donald Sutherland, Jeff Chase, Mini Anden, James Logan, John McConnell
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[SPOILERS] A conventional and unspectacular remake of a 70s action-thriller from the Death Wish duo of Charles Bronson and director Michael “Calm down, dear” Winner, The Mechanic 2011 is exactly what you expect from a film headlined by the star of The Transporter; its taut runtime exploding with a salvo of hit men, guns, cars, babes, fist fights and stunts – played out by a bunch of cold-hearted thugs who would sooner strike you than strike up a conversion.

Statham plays the eponymous Arthur Bishop, for whom connivance and compassion are foreign concepts. He’s an elite gun-for-hire who “fixes” his clients’ problems by making wanted men’s deaths look like accidents. However, the assassin starts to develop a conscience when his next target is his mentor and only friend, Harry McKenna (Sutherland), whose wayward son Steve (Foster) Arthur decides to take under his wing and teach the tricks of his undercover trade.

Foster – who very much reminded me of Ryan Half Nelson Gosling – does a convincing turn as the hot-headed and impulsive waster for whom Arthur has a remarkable amount of patience. Arthur is tied by a sense of duty to his deceased comrade (which, of course, contradicts the fact it was him who pulled the trigger), but Steve really pushes his luck with his mutinous antics in lethal scenarios. You really do wonder why a pro of Arthur’s calibre would risk his reputation by leaving his assignments in the hands of an undependable student.

Considering the clean and delicate nature of their shady business (most of which involves being an invisible-but-deadly presence), the climactic manhunt for the Mechanic’s corrupt Agency chief Dean (Goldwyn) is a surprisingly ostentatious carnival of violence and destruction – on the streets of New Orleans in the middle of the day! Clearly all composure and cunning fly out the window (and abseil down a skyscraper) when you discover your boss is a dangerous double-crossing deviant. Dishonesty? In their line of work? Who would have thunk it?!

But any hope that working together to eliminate a common target would unify our pair of trigger-happy protagonists is but a pipe dream in the viewer’s imagination, as Steve learns the truth about Arthur’s role in his father’s murder and sets out to avenge his death. Three explosions but zero character development (in fact, if anything, Arthur regresses to a new immoral low) see this run-of-the-mill thriller go out with a visual bang – but a severe lack of substance means the adrenaline soon fades, alongside any memory of The Mechanic.


In a CR@B Shell: Playing a minor variation on his renowned underworld delivery driver, Statham was a predictable choice for the lead – and this is The Mechanic’s biggest glitch: it’s too content playing to type that it fails to evolve or astonish. Simon West’s remake is loud, watchable but ultimately forgettable post-pub pap.
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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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Room for Improvement

Film Review: THE ROOM
15 – 92mins – 2003
Written by: Tommy Wiseau
Directed by: Tommy Wiseau
Starring: Tommy Wiseau, Juliette Danielle, Greg Sestero, Philip Haldiman, Carolyn Minnott, Robyn Paris, Mike Holmes, Kyle Vogt, Dan Janjigian, Greg Ellery
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A clear-cut contender for “Worst film ever committed to celluloid”, this self-financed 2003 travesty by unfathomably-accented auteur Tommy Wiseau is so inadequately appalling in every conceivable way that it has gained infamous cult status, receiving numerous midnight cinema screenings - including an upcoming exhibition at Christ's College, Cambridge on June 3rd - and (hopefully ironic) advocates from the likes of Hollywood A-listers Will Ferrell and Kristen Bell.

Clearly intended to be a profound and dark melodrama about the effects an affair can have on those close to you, The Room is more like a farce – none of the unknown cast can act (Wiseau himself the biggest offender), the same plot points are recycled ad infinitum while other more weighty developments (such as a drug money debt and breast cancer test) vanish without trace, the (often dubbed) dialogue is laughable, scenes take place in random irrelevant locations for absolutely no reason, the chronology is in absolute disarray, the camera often dips as if almost dropped while panning the room, characters come and go inexplicably lending no purpose to the story... I could go on!

It’s essentially a 15minute short film dragged over an hour and a half, with overlong location pans, impromptu “catch” sessions with an American football and excruciatingly long un-erotic sex scenes (one of which I have my suspicions was a repeat of earlier footage!) padding out the fluff. Wiseau can claim until he’s blue in the face that it was supposed to be laughed at, but it’s obviously not – it’s just an amateurish and inept product of a man whose ego (and wallet) is larger than his talent.

I’m literally stumped for a single redeeming quality to proffer The Room – even the title is preposterous, serving no relevance to the infinitesimal plot whatsoever. And yet, despite its multitude of faults, it is still well worth checking out, if only as an incredulous curio: seeing is believing – and even then you’ll struggle to grasp exactly how anyone could ever consider this abysmal train wreck to be worth making – but at least you’ll have an arsenal of excruciating quotes at your disposal.


In a CR@B Shell: Watch alone and you won’t make it beyond the first two minutes without tearing your eyes out, but watch with friends and you’ll derive much amusement from deriding this diabolical mess which, bluntly, doesn’t deserve even a single CR@B Howard tick.
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Flogging a Dead Sparrow

Cine Review: PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: ON STRANGER TIDES (3D)
12A – 137mins – 2011
Screenplay by: Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott
Inspired by the novel “On Stranger Tides” by: Tim Powers
Based on the characters created by: Ted Elliott, Terry Rossio, Stuart Beattie and Jay Wolpert
Directed by: Rob Marshall
Starring: Johnny Depp, Penelope Cruz, Ian McShane, Geoffrey Rush, Kevin McNally, Sam Claflin, Àstrid Bergés-Frisbey, Stephen Graham, Richard Griffiths, Gemma Ward, Keith Richards
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Casting overboard the supposed deadwood of uptight lovies Keira Knightley and Orlando Bloom, and reinvigorated by plot elements inspired by an outside source, hopes were high that the fourth instalment in Disney’s lucrative Pirates of the Caribbean series would be a return to the swashbuckling heights scaled in 2003’s vivacious The Curse of the Black Pearl.

Alas, On Stranger Tides – even with a new director in Rob Chicago Marshall – is simply more of the same overlong, overstretched gubbins which weighed down back-to-back sequels Dead Man’s Chest and At World’s End. Johnny Depp’s perma-drunk capt’n Jack Sparrow has gone from a comedic highlight to a farcical irritation, while Geoffrey Rush’s grisly Barbossa seems to have lost more than his leg betwixt instalments: he isn’t half the mad-eyed delight he used to be.

Rescuing his former first mate, Gibbs (McNally), from the noose in the most flamboyantly preposterous fashion, Jack is then charged by King George II (a grotesquely OTT Griffiths) to join forces with the reformed “privateer” Barbossa and locate the fabled Fountain of Youth – but first Jack is determined to upset everyone he comes into contact with by launching a roundabout investigation into the pirate who dares to imitate the illustrious Captain Sparrow.

Surprisingly, it is the bloated film’s first half – retro-fitting a back story which introduces Jack’s former flame Angelica (Cruz) and linking her to the dreaded scourge of the seven seas, Blackbeard (McShane) – which feels like more of a drag than the second, with the plot gaining momentum as the swollen cast are divided three ways in a race to locate the mythical age-defying aqua spring – before the Spanish generals do.

Positive additions to this tired third sequel include the enchanting Mermaids; sultry sirens of the sea who lure sailors with their lullabies only to sprout fangs and attack. It’s a neat ghoulish twist to the usually innocent fish-finned femmes, and Spanish beauty Bergés-Frisbey provides a wonderfully sympathetic portrayal as Syrena, who is captured by the pirates so her tears may be used in the ritual which will bring about the Fountain’s locale.

I was also impressed by the mystical gravity-defying effects which herald the locating of the ceiling-forming Fountain, but there is just too much else in On Stranger Tides which disappointed. It’s such a busy film that there’s barely any time for anything to sink in before another swordfight has erupted or Jack is being chased by another band of outraged folks. Indeed, the Spanish faction of immortality seekers are so underused that they’re all but forgotten, while Blackbeard is all the more menacing when he is off screen – McShane’s performance neutered no doubt by the family friendly rating.

Finally, the 3D presentation is a complete waste of time. I think I counted just three instances when something leered towards the screen, and for the other 135 minutes I was hard pressed to even discern there was an added dimension to the buccaneering frivolities. It’s no wonder this technology gets a bad reputation when it’s used as a gimmick on blockbuster films which don’t require it but feel they should simply because it’s available and it sounds good on the advertising – I sincerely hope that isn’t the case for the upcoming Harry Potter finale, but I have my doubts.


In a CR@B Shell: You can definitely have too much of good thing, and I fear four epic high seas adventures is three too many for Depp’s over-exposed cash cow. Of course, riches speak louder than reason, so expect to set sail yet again now that the Black Pearl is out of the bottle. Savvy?
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Life’s a Bitch (and then you meet the Girl of your Dreams)

DVD Review: REMEMBER ME
12 – 108mins – 2010
Written by: Will Fetters
Directed by: Allen Coulter
Starring: Robert Pattinson, Emilie de Ravin, Chris Cooper, Lena Olin, Pierce Brosnan, Ruby Jerins, Tate Ellington
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We are always told never to judge a book by its cover, and yet movie one sheets and DVD covers always try their utmost to be as bold, attractive and alluring as possible to get us to do just that – to persuade us to see the “GREATEST FILM EVER, EVER MADE… EVER!!! *****” based upon a single photoshopped image and some hyperbolic arse-kissing pull-quotes.

Curiously, the marketing and design bods promoting Remember Me systematically failed to do that (check out the wholly bland and unimaginative cover art below). Perhaps they were hoping that the in-vogue appeal of Robert “Edward Cullen” Pattinson and Emilie “Clare from Lost” de Ravin cuddled up looking off into the middle distance would be enough to sell the film?

To a certain extent I suppose they were (sadly) right, as Twi-hards flocked to check out their object of lust in something human and dramatic, but I was under the unfortunate misunderstanding that this film was just a by-the-numbers romantic comedy; a lightweight time-passer between Twilight instalments for Mr. Pattinson.

Boy was I wrong. I'm talking "thinking I’d detest Fast Five but really it was freaking awesome" magnitude wrong (check out my confessio- I mean, review HERE). But then it wasn’t as if this film’s "we've got hot actors" advertising did a great deal to paint a more comprehensive picture...

Remember Me is a film about living in the moment, making the most of life and living up to the memory of those who have gone before us. It is very much a character piece with some very engrossing story arcs delivering some rather astute lessons in life to a group of people who have all had their fair share of tragedy to contend with. On the downside, this does mean that some scenes are quite emotionally charged and some characters are really detestable graduates of the school of life.

The man the web refers to as R-Patz is at his most downbeat and least handsome (sorry, girls) as Tyler Hawkins, a volatile lad in his early twenties whose emotionally brusque father (Brosnan) is too involved with work to notice that his young art prodigy daughter (Jerins) is being bullied at school and their nuclear family is a mess following the suicide of Tyler’s older brother some seven years earlier.

At heart, Tyler is a good guy, but he takes his grief and aggression out on others and he has seen the inside of a holding cell more often than is healthy. Persuaded by his insensible dick of a roommate (Ellington) that the daughter of the cop (Cooper) who last bust open his face would be a great person to fool around with to get revenge, Pattinson starts dating Ally Craig (de Ravin) – a girl who knows a thing or two about tragedy, having witnessed the murder of her mother a decade previous – only for this bet to turn into an actual love affair which deeply affects both parties.

The drama is a little depressing at times, the colour palette a little too washed out and the characters’ choices a little frustrating, but Allan Coulter’s film does enough to keep well clear of twee, generic or predictable. The leftfield “twist” in the final act could be accused of using real life disaster for the purposes of entertainment, but there’s no denying it is a strong emotional blow which enforces the film’s redemptive message and guarantee’s you won’t quickly forget Remember Me.


In a CR@B Shell: Not at all the film I was expecting, but for all the right reasons. Remember Me isn’t a barrel of laughs, but it is an affecting and heartfelt drama which fulfils its purpose by teaching us about the peaks and troughs of the human condition.
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Lady of the Flies

Blu Review: PHENOMENA
18 – 110mins – 1985
Written by: Dario Argento and Franco Ferrini
Directed by: Dario Argento
Starring: Jennifer Connelly, Donald Pleasence, Patrick Bauchau, Dario Nicolodi, Dalila Di Lazzaro, Fiore Argento, Federica Mastroianni, Franco Trevisi
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Other than his contribution to the Edgar Allen Poe double hitter Two Evil Eyes (which I really must re-watch to review at some stage), Phenomena is my first undiluted taste of Italian horror director Dario Argento’s cult cannon of surreal hyper-gory Giallo nightmares. Released in the US in 1986 with the title Creepers and with over 30mins of footage edited out (seriously, it must have made no sense whatsoever), cult enthusiasts Arrow Video have digitally restored the extended 110minute version for this recent Blu-ray edition.

The synopsis is a bit of a rollercoaster, so bear with me: Two years prior to her breakthrough in puppet fantasy Labyrinth, a teenage Jennifer Connelly plays Jennifer Corvino, the daughter of a famous movie star who is transferred to a Swiss girl’s boarding school while her father is on location. An insect-lover with a habit of sleepwalking, Jennifer is ostracised by the bullying boarders but befriended by a paralysed entomologist, Dr. John McGregor (Pleasence), whose lab assistant is a trained chimpanzee.*

The Scot doc believes Jennifer’s extrasensory affinity with creepy crawlers could come in useful in helping track down a diabolical serial killer loose in the area, and teams up “the two greatest detectives the world has ever known – or should I say: unknown”: Jennifer and a Great Sarcophagus fly (yes – a fly; specifically one which is drawn to corpses). Meanwhile, having run away from school after being diagnosed as mentally ill, Jennifer is offered refuge at the home of school mistress Frau Brücker (Nicolodi) while she waits for her plane to fly her back to her father in LA.

Visually, the film looks great. Top marks to Arrow for a great remaster, even if the English audio does occasionally slip back into the Italian track for snatches of (presumedly lost) dialogue. The synth-powered Goblin score is also fantastically atmospheric without being generic, although the injections of 80s Metal sounds totally out of place. Much like Fulci’s The House by the Cemetery (reviewed HERE), when gore is required, Argento doesn’t hold back, but – perhaps given the protracted runtime – there are lengthy periods of inactivity where you wonder whether this is actually a horror at all.

The identity of the serial killer is very well masked, and the climatic reveal is a genuine surprise, but what lets Phenomena down is its inexplicably ropey characterisation. A pair of macho boy racers knock a sleepwalking Jennifer down in their speeding car – and their response is to kidnap her until she fights her way out of the moving vehicle!! Jennifer’s roommate Sophie (Mastroianni) falls victim to the deranged killer, yet neither students nor staff appear overly upset that one of their friends has been slaughtered; they’re more interested in bugging Jennifer over her affinity with insects than staying alive!!

Heroine Jennifer is the most comprehensively fleshed out character, but even she isn’t immune from perplexing character choices. In an early scene she recounts sleepwalking to the scene of one of the murders – yet refuses to tell anyone but Dr. McGregor of what she has witnessed in case the haughty headmistress (Di Lazzaro) dismisses her as delusional! Surely the police should be notified of such a development…? But then it isn’t like this tough-as-nails fourteen-year-old seems even remotely distressed by witnessing somebody get a metal spike through the face.

Jennifer’s paranormal powers also feel underused, despite being the film’s main selling point. Her sleepwalking visions of long clinical corridors are never explained and quickly forgotten, while only twice does she summon a swarm of pests and once receive guidance from a firefly. Furthermore, her teaming up with a diminutive “detective partner” is brought to a swift end when she is scared away from the investigation by an Estate Agent (Trevisi), and the eventual discovery of the murderer is brought to her, rather than through any telekinetic skill of her own.


In a CR@B Shell: I hate to be a buzz kill, but Dario Argento’s outlandish creepy-crawler clairvoyant concept had such potential to be an uncanny delight, yet Phenomena is an overlong and uneven oddity which lacks the crucial sting in the tale which would have made this underdeveloped larvae fly.
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*So that’s where George A. Romero got the inspiration for Monkey Shines (reviewed HERE) from!!

Battlefield: Brixton

Cine Review: ATTACK THE BLOCK
15 – 87mins – 2011
Written by: Joe Cornish
Directed by: Joe Cornish
Starring: John Boyega, Jodie Whittacker, Alex Esmail, Franz Drameh, Leeon Jones, Simon Howard, Luke Treadaway, Paige Meade, Danielle Vitalis, Nick Frost
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Newport-based rap outfit Goldie Lookin’ Chain must be brap, brap, brapping themselves stupid right about now. If only they had sung: “Guns don’t kill people, giant gorilla alien-things do”, their 2004 spoof megahit would have been an absolute shoe-in for the gangsta rap soundtrack to this genre-blending council estate sci-fi mash-up which. You get me?

Injecting the gritty realism of lower class city life with a triple shot of smugness, humour and blazin' honour, South London ’s concrete jungle plays hosts to a gang war on an intergalactic scale as the subhuman chavvie homeboys of “The Block” take on nonhuman invaders to their patch.

The stereotypes are out in full force as the ASBO delinquents tool up with all manner of switchblades, baseball bats and fireworks to fend off the black-furred, neon-fanged ET’s on this fateful Bonfire Night after gang leader Moses (Boyega) arrogantly decides to kill one of the meteor-carried “tings” in the name of pride. Big mistake, bruv.

Written and directed by Brit comic and feature film debutant Joe Cornish of Adam and Joe Show renown, Attack the Block is a meteor storm of culture-cussing comedy, explosive action, gross-out horror and creature-feature science fiction. Yet, the myriad of juxtaposing elements never feel out of whack and the cocktail concept never feels bloated. To Cornish’s credit: it works.

An obvious comparison would be to Anglo zom-com Shaun of the Dead (even more pertinent an association because both films share producers and star Nick Frost), but Attack lacks Shaun’s cosy charm, given the thuggish depravity of its main spliff-smoking, slang-spouting brats, who are introduced to us mugging student nurse Sam (Whittaker), taking her on 5:1. Ras-pect? Jog on, boys.

As their bluster bombs in the face of real danger, you will begin to warm to our posse of inner-city anti-heroes, as they team up with a reluctant Sam to fight the gremlins and evade the “Feds” (that’s the police to you and I) in between checking in with their curfew-administering ‘rents. The disparity between their public and private image is the source of much humour, particularly with two nine year old pipsqueaks who are desperate to join the adventure, arming themselves with cap guns, super-soakers and the laughably portentous pseudonyms “Props” and “Mayhem”.

As is often the case, the trailer all-too-successfully provides a snapshot clip show of the film’s funniest lines (“I just want to go home, lock my door, and play FIFA”), but at just under 90mins, Attack the Block never outstays its welcome, and most importantly never bores with its unrepentant onslaught. Nick Frost is criminally underused as pot-farming waster Ron, but the kidz are the real star of this show, even if you’ll leave the cinema still thinking they’re from another planet.


In a CR@B Shell: You’ll have initial trouble sympathising with the mouthy little shits, but you can’t deny their doggedness. Likewise, if you stick with Joe Cornish’s debut, you won’t be able to deny Attack isn’t a Block-busting tour de force which manages to be both great fun and bloody fierce entertainment. Boyakasha!
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The Agony and the Ecstacy

Blu Review: MARTYRS
18 – 97mins – 2008
Written by: Pascal Laugier
Directed by: Pascal Laugier
Starring: Morjana Alaoui, Mylène Jampanï, Catherine Bégin
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Bloody, brutal, savage, extreme, visceral, sadistic – all of these terms (and many more synonyms besides) could be thrown into a review of French horror Martyrs, and yet none of them could ever *quite* manage to best express just how fucked up this film is. It’s the kind of film you have to see, but you won’t want to. It’s powerful viewing, but it’s also unpleasantly hard viewing, and I can’t imagine anyone going back for seconds. Not because it isn’t any good (far from it), but because it’ll forever be engrained on the viewer’s subconscious.

Having escaped from an abandoned abattoir following a lengthy period of imprisonment, abuse and torture at just ten years old, traumatised Lucie (Jampanï) is still plagued by nightmarish visions of a truly terrifying primordial goblin-esque figure. 15 years later, and with the support and assistance of her only friend, fellow care home resident Anna (Alaoui), Lucie has tracked down the sick perpetrators responsible, and she’s intent on making them pay…

If my synopsis makes Martyrs sound a little familiar, a little generic, akin to I Spit on your Grave and its ilk of rape/revenge thrillers, then think again: the above is wrapped up within the first 45 minutes, and the film's second half plunges to new depths of depravity whilst transcending the binds of its oft-maligned genre and ascending to new heights of unprecedented originality, as Anna stumbles upon the dark-as-night secret behind Lucie’s juvenile imprisonment, and finds herself in a similarly unspeakable scenario.

I won’t ruin it for you, as stripping away the meat from Martyrs’ bones will greatly reduce the potency of its appalling revelations. Nevertheless, a warning: I’ve watched a flood of limb-slicing, gore-splattered, frankly deplorable horror films in my time, and I’m not being hyperbolic when I rank Pascal Laugier’s film as one of the most shockingly severe my eyes have witnessed. But unlike shallow schlockers like City of the Living Dead, in this case I mean it as an immense compliment.


In a CR@B Shell: Prepare to be in equal parts astounded and revolted by this extraordinary Euro example of extreme transgressive cinema. Martyrs achieves exactly what it sets out to, and for that must be commended, but it is not an enjoyable viewing experience. Not for the weak of heart (or stomach).
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Fear ye the Rip-off

DVD Review: MY SOUL TO TAKE
18 – 107mins – 2010
Written by: Wes Craven
Directed by: Wes Craven
Starring: Max Thieriot, John Magaro, Emily Meade, Nick Lashaway, Zena Grey, Paulina Olszynski, Denzel Whitaker, Raul Esparza, Jessica Hecht, Jeremy Chu
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[SPOILERS] My eagerness for satirical slasher sequel Scre4m (which I do intend to see before it leaves cinemas) was sliced down a notch after watching “master of horror” Wes Craven’s limp preceding offering. My Soul to Take is an ineffective mess of schizophrenic murderers, spiritualist hokum, loose plot-threads, weak scares, laughable chills and fruitless characters. Basically, it’s utter drivel which just screams direct-to-video B-movie. So the studio released it in box office-inflating 3D and witnessed it deservedly bomb.

Craven's first writing and directing gig since New Nightmare in 1994, My Soul to Take’s failure is even more disappointing because the premise is actually fairly novel. The film’s downfall is in its dire execution. 16 years to the day after the community of Riverton suffered terrible losses at the knife-wielding hand of the “Riverton Ripper” (Raul Esparaza), the seven children born on the night he was shot are being picked off in grizzly murders. Did the Ripper cheat death to wreck his revenge, biding his time and building his strength over the intervening years, or are supernatural forces at work?

The answer, dear readers, is the latter, despite the wounded psychopath being seen running away from the ambulance which was transporting him and his victims to the hospital, thereby keeping open the possibility of his survival. But this is just one of the many red herrings Craven throws at us, which, when you consider the film as a whole, are actually rather large plot holes. The Riverton Ripper’s soul has, in fact, been transported into one of the seven newborns who came into this world the night he left it. That’s right; the killer was that darn evil that even death couldn’t stop him. Sound familiar?

Introverted teen Adam “Bug” Hellerman (Max Thieriot), with his lack of medical records, schizophrenic impressions and morbid ability to see the recently deceased in the mirror (!), is instantly marked as suspect numero uno. Except it obviously isn’t him, because Craven tries so frickin’ hard to indebt him with all these “guilty” attributes (watch out for the family reveal halfway through) that you’re constantly anticipating a twist. And, predictably, we get one – so then what the hell was all that “dead reflections leave knifes for me in the sink” nonsense all about?!

My Soul to Take features countless genre elements which would work reasonably well on their own, but as mere fragments of this scatterbrained plot they serve no conclusive purpose other than to irritate. For instance, one of the seven teens is a Jesus freak (Zena Grey) and another is blind (Denzel Whitaker) – but their distinctive characteristics lend no purpose to the narrative! It’s as if Craven had a load of “this would be cool!” ideas, but in his excitement failed to cohesively tie them all together. And this is a veteran of modern horror cinema!


In a CR@B Shell: Over thought, over wrought claptrap from a (former) master of the genre who, most criminally of all, fails to see how preposterous his creation is and plays the entire farce entirely straight. Won’t stop you laughing out loud though.
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Groundhog Daydream

Cine Review: SOURCE CODE
12A – 93mins – 2011
Written by: Ben Ripley
Directed by: Duncan Jones
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Monaghan, Vera Farmiga, Jeffrey Wright, Michael Arden, Cas Anvar, Russell Peters
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[MAJOR SPOILERS] Harnessing the echo of electrical brain activity left behind after a person dies, radical scientists are able to plug a missionary into the last 8 minutes of a soon-to-be-dead person’s consciousness. This is the mind-bending situation Army helicopter pilot Captain Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal) finds himself in in Source Code, Duncan “Zowie Bowie” Jones’s much anticipated directorial follow up to his masterful debut Moon.

Under the blunt scrutiny of mission controller Captain Goodwin (Vera Farmiga) and project mastermind Dr. Routledge (Jeffrey Wright), Stevens is repeatedly transported into this brief capsule of memory left behind by teacher Sean Fentress, as he and a double-decker trainload of innocent commuters tragically lose their lives in a terrorist-planned explosion which took place earlier that day. It is up to Colter, so he is forcefully reminded, to use these 480 seconds to investigate the carriage and its passengers, to locate the phone detonated bomb and identify its sadistic maker.

There are obvious shades of Groundhog Day and Quantum Leap in the body-swapping, time-repeating, scientifically ludicrous concept, but this isn’t time travel (or, indeed, a comedy); the events have already taken place, so using the precious minutes to save individual passengers – such as Sean’s cute colleague Christina Warren (Michelle Monaghan) – is an exercise in futility. The “source code” must be utilised to analyse and investigate, so to avert any further attacks from the unapprehended bomber.

After the opening 8 minutes, as Colter jolts out of “death” for the first time only to reawaken in a darkened pod with just Goodwin’s face on a monitor for direction, it is clear that the understandably confused and disorientated former helicopter pilot is being lied to. Goodwin and Routledge’s evasive answers reveal only the sketchiest details of Colter’s mission; time is of the essence they keep reminding him, but there is much more to their ambiguity than efficiency…

Source Code was certainly a brave sophomore project for Jones to take on – its blockbusting set pieces, busy cast, jumpy editing and high tempo, race-against-the-clock structure are something of a departure from the reflective subtleties of Sam Rockwell pacing around a space station. Both this and Moon demand the audience take a leap of faith for creativities sake, but while Jones's first feature granted us emotional levity, Source Code’s overly complex internal logic took one too many risks for my liking and ended up falling flat on its overreaching face.

By the film’s third act, Colter has fallen in love with Christina (a woman he has only spent variations of the same 8 minutes with – 8 minutes in which he has had the overriding pressure of hunting out a bomb suspect!) and completely rewritten the laws of time and space, in severe discordance with the programme’s creator’s prior account of the source code’s limitations! I’m sure Jones and writer Ben Ripley could launch into a longwinded, jargonous explanation to verify Colter’s event-altering master plan, but this just screams “PLOT HOLE!” to me.

So, Colter gets closure in his relationship with his father (Scott Baluka) whilst still living happily ever after with the new-found love of his 8 minute (after-)life? But are we seriously meant to swallow that the pair are now living in an alternate dimension of reality where “Sean” foiled the bomber, saved everyone’s lives and is now destined to live out the rest of his days with an Army Captain’s conscience? Is Christina not even a *little* shocked that Sean is no longer Sean but Colter? Does Colter not mind looking in the mirror and seeing Sean’s face?? These are rather major qualms which remain wholly unanswered as the end credits roll...


In a CR@B Shell: An exhilarating and gripping action thriller which sadly unravels in a mess of mumbo-jumbo plot-holes and headache-inducing illogicalities for the sake of a sentimental conclusion. There are fragments of promise here, but ultimately, Source Code is one giant (quantum) leap back from the superior Moon.
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Wail of the Weeping Woman

DVD Review: DAMNED BY DAWN
15 – 81mins – 2010
Story by: Brett Anstey, Russell Friedrich, Rob Townshend
Screenplay by: Brett Anstey
Directed by: Brett Anstey
Starring: Renee Willner, Bridget Neval, Dawn Klingberg, Taryn Eva, Danny Alder, Mark Taylor, Peter Stratford
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Every week you'll witness a smattering of schlocky new genre releases dotted around the lower echelons of supermarket's DVD charts. Be they cheap cash-in sequels (such as the recent Mirrors 2) or small independent passion projects (such as the “After Dark Originals” series), few are worth shelling out your hard earned pennies for. There's a reason they didn't get a wide release, after all. Every now and then, however, one such cinema-evading spooker piques my novelty-susceptible interest – and 2010's Damned by Dawn, from intriguingly-monikered Australian's “The Amazing Krypto Bros”, certainly did that.

Admittedly, I was initially drawn to what I thought was a fanged vampire on the UK's whitewashed cover (see bottom pic), but a read through of the synopsis did little to dampen my interest; a soul-collecting Banshee with a scream to raise the dead sounded refreshingly original. And original Damned by Dawn undoubtedly is – even if my admiration was blotched by mild disappointment by the roll of the end credits.

As the life seeps evermore noticeably from her bed-ridden grandmother (Klingberg), twenty-something Claire O'Neill (Willner) returns to her father's (Stratford) run-down farmhouse for the first time in 18 months – with her boyfriend Paul (Alder) in tow. As Nana starts talking of a woman who will come to claim her soul when she passes, a spooked out Claire dismisses the creepy chatter as little more than illogical ravings – until the family are awoken by piercing shrieks in the middle of the night and their home is under threat from the recently risen dead; under the command of a wailing woman in white...

The screen continually cloaked in a dense fog, and the narrative unfolding entirely on the grounds of the eerie and isolated rural house, the filmmakers certainly cannot be accused of not summoning up a remarkably appropriate atmosphere. The Banshee – a blood-stained, ghost-faced, rag-wearing spirit – is a genuinely creepy creation. Alas, it soon becomes clear that her arsenal of abilities is strickly limited to floating and shrieking (the majority of which she does off screen) – making her no more fearsome than the ghouls she awakens.

On the subject of the ghouls – unearthed, supernaturally animated corpses – you have to admire the FX department for their budget-restricted effort, but, in truth, flying skeletons are not scary, and some of the atmosphere attributed to the Banshee is irredeemably eradicated by these ludicrous foes. Nonetheless, I will conceed to being impressed by the sequence in which Claire and her father speed away from the house in a car as countless airborne ghouls fly at the panic-stricken escapees.

Attempts to justify and add depth to the horrific events by tying the modern day phenomena to the O'Neill's family history by way of a black and white photograph, an heirloom urn and diary extracts from generations past are well meaning but ultimately fall short of lucid. As do the poorly-executed endeavours to grant the human characters with rounded personalities (the father's quickly forgotten kookiness; Claire's scarcely unmentioned secret). Ultimately, the film's greatest elements are the most gory (a gut-spewing, unrelenting zombie attack in the kitchen), and although the make-up is slapped on a little thick in parts, Damned by Dawn is an admirably gutsy independent chiller.


In a CR@B Shell: Small in scale but big in ambition, Brett Anstey's Damned by Dawn may forsake some of its unearthly ambiance with unintentionally gigglesome adversaries, but make no mistake – there is a gallant and damned spirited concept at the core of this low budget offering.
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Perry Bad Things

DVD Review: HEAVENLY CREATURES - THE UNCUT VERSION
18 – 99mins – 1994
Written by: Fran Walsh and Peter Jackson
Directed by: Peter Jackson
Starring: Melanie Lynskey, Kate Winslet, Sarah Peirse, Diana Kent, Clive Merrison, Simon O’Connor, Jed Brophy, Peter Elliott, Gilbert Goldie
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Some background context for y’all: Some weeks ago I suggested the novel Bedford Square to an acquaintance. I had not read any of Anne Perry’s vast back catalogue of fiction before, but I know she is an incredibly popular author in the Victorian murder mystery genre. My acquaintance replied incontrovertibly that she would never read a word written by that author, because Anne Perry is a convicted murderer. I was dumbfounded to say the least, it was certainly the first I had heard of this revelation, but I was interested to find out more and set about researching Ms. Perry’s dark past.

My research led me to discover all about the horrifying real events which took place in New Zealand in the mid 1950s, in which the then school girl (born Juliet Hulme, Anne Perry being a pseudonym) conspired with her best friend, Pauline Parker, to murder Parker’s mother in a delusional attempt to stop the girl’s parent’s from keeping the friend’s apart.

Had the girl’s been but a few years older, they would have received the death penalty, but instead they served a sentence in prison and have subsequently been released – under the condition that they never communicate with one another again – with Hulme moving to Scotland and becoming famous for a completely unrelated reason: her talent as a writer.

When I found out that Peter Lord of the Rings Jackson’s 1994 film Heavenly Creatures was based on the controversial crime which shocked NZ, I was desperate to search it out, but even the 2004 region 2 DVD release has been deleted. Having asked about in ex-rental stores with no joy, I indulged my curiosity after (re-)purchasing a multi-region player and picked up a US copy for a bargainous price.

Based upon details made public during the court case and Parker’s diary entries, Heavenly Creatures proves to be disturbing viewing: Melanie Lynskey excels as the shy Parker, while Kate Winslet radiates confidence to the point of purposeful irritation as the prim yet outspoken Hulme. It’s the kind of shocking story which lends credence to the maxim “truth is stranger than fiction”, as the two best friend’s form a quick-but-concrete bond which sees them go off into their own fantasy worlds where they take on the characteristics of characters from medieval love stories they create.

A major departure in both style and tone from his “splatter” films such as Bad Taste and Braindead, Heavenly Creatures retains some of the amateurish qualities of the director’s early films, while also paving the way for his later, more accomplished blockbusters. Indeed, the film's ahead-of-their-time CGI effects – such as morphing landscapes, giant butterflies and animated pottery figures have definite shades of the limbo stage featured in Jackson ’s 2006 The Lovely Bones adaptation.

Jackson and co-writer Walsh seem to point the finger of blame at many a factor – the starkly contrasting reactions (and parenting styles) of the girl’s parents to their close-knit friendship, the breakdown of the Hulme’s marriage and Hilda Hulme’s (Kent) affair, Juliet’s reoccurring ill health, Pauline’s sexual experiences with an older man (Brophy) – the list could go on, and it makes for an intriguing spider web of cause and effect. I frequently found myself cringing and shouting at the screen, demanding why these people were acting the way they were. But at the end of the day, any teenager who would even consider murdering their own mother (Peirse) so they could spend more time with a school friend has serious issues.

Had this taken place in today’s world, Hulme and Parker would undoubtedly have been sent for psychiatric examination long before their horrendously excessive plan is hatched. Their bizarre make-believe alter egos, their obsessive natures (both with one another and stars of the time), their belief in cultish quasi-religions and their extreme jealousy would all have prompted far faster and more efficient treatment. As it was, they were considered to be lesbians in an era where such behaviour was feared, and this societal distancing only brought the outcasts closer together.


In a CR@B Shell: Simultaneously engaging and disconcerting, Heavenly Creatures is an examination of doomed friendship and irrational behaviour which is only occasionally let down by the economical production. It showcases stars on the rise in Winslet and Jackson, but leaves an uneasy after-taste when you apprehend it all really happened.
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A Fate Worse Than Destiny

Cine Review: THE ADJUSTMENT BUREAU
12A – 106mins – 2011
Screenplay by: George Nolfi
Based on “The Adjustment Team” written by: Philip K. Dick
Directed by: George Nolfi
Starring: Matt Damon, Emily Blunt, Anthony Mackie, John Slattery, Michael Kelly, Terence Stamp
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This is exactly the type of film I usually adore, but even the trailer didn’t grab me as anything special. My primary issue was that I found the central premise of “being on the run from your own destiny” to be incredibly cheesy, and yet I went to see it regardless. You see, when you’ve got a Cineworld Unlimited card and you don’t hand over nearly £10 per visit, you’re less fussy about what you watch on the big screen. And taking a risk can sometimes change your life. Which in a roundabout way is what The Adjustment Bureau is all about…

For the majority of this loose George Nolfi adaptation of a Philip K. Dick short story I was adequately content, even though the science fiction element plays second fiddle to the love story between “people’s politician” David Norris (Damon) and playful ballerina Elise Selles (Blunt). The lead actors spark fantastically and their banter feels authentic; it’s love at first sight. However, fate has another agenda and portal-hopping, hat-wearing members of the eponymous team set about “correcting” destiny so the pair never sees each other again.

Why? Because everything happens for a reason in the grand scheme of things, provided the omnipotent “Chairman” (an unseen, God-like master) wants it to. Otherwise his bureaucratic “angels” are dispatched to make subtle but influential changes which will affect your life for the good of the scheme without you ever knowing. The predicament is, after not missing his bus and turning up to work ten minutes earlier than he should have – catching the bureaucrats in action – David now knows, and he’s a determined individual who won’t give up on the love of his life without a chase.

The problem with these mind-bending, intellectual thrillers (Inception likewise springs to mind) is that their fantastical, futuristic premises are so mired in their own rules, that they can all-too easily fall apart if you think about them too logically. The agents of fate are so unattached to humanity that they repeatedly send millions of people to their death – so why do they risk their entire covert operation by revealing themselves to David, instead of erasing his mind instantly? Other than the film ending after five minutes, it seems like an almighty risk for the sake of one life, regardless of his political potential.

Furthermore, agent Richardson (Slattery) warns David that if he ever utters a word of their existence to anyone, his mind will instantly be wiped. Yet even when David does eventually disclose all to Elise, all he has to do is knock one of them out, pop on a piece of portal-jumping headgear and go on the run. From an omnipotent power?! Hmmm… The team seem far too incompetent to wield such power, with a rogue agent (Mackie) even actively going against his orders and assisting David just because he feels bad for him!! And our lives are in his over-sentimental hands? Chairman help us…


In a CR@B Shell: The romantic aspect and “fate versus free will” debate sizzling under the thrilling surface are entertaining enough, but when the plot hinges on such loose reasoning, it’s hard to suspend disbelief and take the jump into The Adjustment Bureau.
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Tears of a Clone

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

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

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

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

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


In a CR@B Shell: Heartbreaking and stirring in equal measures, Never Let Me Go may not quite deliver the sumptuous detail of its source novel, but it more than makes up for its early haste by delivering a hard-hitting message through three powerhouse lead performances.
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Braid New World

Cine Review: TANGLED (3D)
PG – 100mins – 2011
Screenplay by: Dan Fogelman
Based on the Brother’s Grimm fairytale
Directed by: Nathan Greno and Byron Howard
Starring the voice talents of: Mandy Moore , Zachary Levi, Donna Murphy, Ron Perlman, M. C. Gainey, Jeffrey Tambor, Brad Garrett, Paul F. Tompkins, Richard Kiel
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Disney has once again done what Disney does best and weaved its enchanting animated extensions into the roots of an age-old fairytale. In case my hair-related puns weren’t a big enough clue, lengthy-locked Rapunzel becomes the iconic studio’s fiftieth big screen Princess, but the first to be rendered in 3D (unless you count line-drawing-made-flesh Giselle from Enchanted, which I don't).

But adding a dazzling third dimension isn’t the only way director’s Greno and Howard have brought the Brother’s Grimm classic fable into the twenty-first century – this golden girl’s got attitude. Kidnapped at birth by wizened old hag Mother Gothel (Murphy) and locked away in a doorless tower for 18 years, regal Rapunzel (Moore) – with hair magically indebted with the power to defying the aging process – is a surprisingly creative, sassy and independent teen for one so unworldly wise.

Whiling away her youth painting, cleaning and singing to her only friend (a mute but humorously responsive chameleon called Pascal), Rapunzel dreams of her crushingly protective “mother” letting her out to see the glorious gathering of floating lights which each year mark the lost princess’s birthday. She is finally given that opportunity when runaway thief Flynn Rider (Levi) hides in the tower to escape capture and begrudgingly agrees to be the frying pan-wielding gal’s guide in the outside world, in exchange for the stolen crown which Rapunzel has confiscated from the scoundrel.

Pursued by an ever-increasing band of adversaries, including the evil Gothel, the kingdom’s guards, Flynn’s doubled-crossed cronies and a stubbornly persistent horse, the dashing rogue opens Rapunzel’s innocent eyes to the beauty of the world outside her stone prison, while the bold blonde beauty predictably opens Flynn’s heart to love – and an honest life. Ahhhh, well it had to end happily ever after, didn’t it?

The considerable changes to the parable (which told of how the witch tricked the Prince into climbing the tower before Rapunzel can escape) open up the story – and the lush, painterly animation – splendidly, granting feisty Rapunzel a freedom like never before, while the decision to make the charming male lead a vagrant adds a mischievous edge to the clean-cut formula.

Mandy Moore as the oblivious Princess particularly impressed me, bringing a sweet yet spunky delivery to Rapunzel’s optimistic dialogue. Bravo to scripter Dan Fogelman for nailing the confident, modern-day teen routine. Ultimately, Tangled does a far better job of juggling the timeless yet contemporary elements than Disney’s last fairytale outing, 2009’s The Princess and the Frog, which just felt far too old fashioned in its attempts to be traditional.


In a CR@B Shell: The Mouse House’s latest beauty and the thief adventure won’t have you pulling your hair out at any embarrassing attempts at fashionable funnies; Tangled is a classic fable which loses none of its magic in staying relevant to its modern audience.
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