Movie Review - Source Code (2011)

Source Code, 2011.



Directed by Duncan Jones .

Starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Monaghan and Vera Farmiga. 





SYNOPSIS:



Captain Colter Stevens, a helicopter pilot in Afghanistan, wakes up in the body of a man he doesn’t recognise on a commuter train to Chicago. Before he can comprehend anything, a bomb goes off, killing him and everyone on the train. He then awakens in some kind of chamber, where he is told he is inside the ‘Source Code’, and has to go back and relive the last eight minutes continuously until he finds and identifies the bomber, so that no more innocent civilians have to die.





Duncan Jones (aka Zowie Bowie) rose to prominence when he came out of nowhere with his debut feature Moon, a masterful work of science fiction and pretty much the best film of 2009. It was simultaneously a tribute to the sci-fi genre while being entirely fresh and original, marking Jones as a confident and skilled director, smart enough to realise that to make sci-fi work, you have to have a human story at its core.



The idea behind Source Code, that the main character Colter is able to ‘relive’ the last eight minutes of Sean Fentress’ life in order to find the bomb and identify the bomber, is grounded purely in sci-fi, but, like Moon, it’s a human story at heart, and one that’s almost entirely on the shoulders of Jake Gyllenhaal.  His performance in what is almost a one-man-show of a film is thankfully, excellent - at first confused and scared, but then determined to save the lives of the passengers on the train in order to make his father proud. The scenes when he calls his father, pretending to be Sean Fentress (just so he can speak to him one last time), claiming to be a soldier that served with his son Colter, is heartfelt and powerful and conveyed beautifully by Gyllenhaal.



With such a fantastical premise, Source Code could have fallen into the trap of 'two-and-a-half-hours of navel gazing', but Jones handles the pacing very well. We see Colter going back to the train a few times but it doesn’t get repetitive - each time Colter’s approach is different, then Jones speeds the sequences up, utilising snappy editing to maintain audience interest. The film moves so quickly that we don’t have time to focus on the plot holes and, ultimately, they don’t matter anyway. Yes, the idea of Source Code isn't terribly well explained, yes, Colter has free will and can do whatever he wants in the last eight minutes of someone else’s life (huh?), and so yes, he’s in an alternative reality (hang on a minute…) but remember this is a thriller with science fiction at it’s core. Everything doesn't need to be explained, it's science fiction! So long as it’s backed up with real emotion, likeable characters and a fantastic story, all of which Source Code has, then, as far as I’m concerned, plot holes can be easily forgiven. Source Code's complex but ingenious premise is explored via the plotting but it doesn't become what the story is ultimately about, yet another masterstroke from Jones, because if it had, Source Code wouldn't be nearly as effective and enjoyable as it is.



Also of special note is the excellent score from Chris P. Bacon, who has created a lively and playful backing for the action, almost Hitchcockian in it’s kinetic tension. Strings leap and weave throughout the visuals, so seamlessly suited as to become almost unnoticeable, completely married to the image.



While the ending is a little hard to grasp, Source Code generally doesn't allow itself to get too bogged down in parallel realities et al, which could have easily rendered the film a mess in the hands of a less competent director. Jones easily rises to the challenge and turns in a taut, whip-smart and inventive thriller, aided by Gyllenhaal's relatable turn as the honest everyman caught in a situation he doesn't understand. While not quite as downright incredible as Moon, Source Code is still an ingenious thriller - this is sci-fi done confidently and compactly. Original ideas are growing ever rare in today’s world of sequels, remakes and 3D, and Source Code is a welcome return to compelling and original entertainment without dumbing or talking down to the audience. Accept it for it's shortcomings and enjoy the ride because you won't be disappointed. 

Roger Holland



Movie Review Archive

Movie Review - 13 Assassins (2010)

13 Assassins (Jûsan-nin no shikaku), 2010.



Directed by Takashi Miike.

Starring Koji Yakusho, Takayuki Yamada and Yuseke Iseya.





SYNOPSIS:



The sadistic Lord Naritsugu, brother of the Shogun and therefore above the law, commits a string of atrocities across feudal Japan. The samurai Shinzaemon Shimada is hired to assassinate him, hiring a team of samurai assassins to assist him, ending in a final bloody showdown.





With some eighty films to his name, Takashi Miike is every bit the prolific director, hopping and mashing up genres to his hearts content. While Western audiences best know him for gruesome thrillers (Audition) and crime dramas (Dead or Alive) he's also dabbled in melodramas, period films and even (believe it or not) children's features. So it's with expert hands that Miike approaches 13 Assassins, a remake of the 1963 film of the same name.



Those expecting Miike's infamously violent scenes will not be disappointed, but it's not in an exploitative manner that Miike approaches his violence. Much violence appears offscreen, with the fantastic sound effects aiding our imagination, such as the Seppuku (Harakiri) incidence in the opening of the film. Miike skilfully uses violence as a device with which to grab the attention of the viewer or to brutally illustrate a specific character and it's the latter most liberally employed in the first act of 13 Assassins, as the callously sadistic Lord Naritsugu massacres whole families and removes the limbs and tongue of a peasant girl. The peasant girl in particular, revealed to the audience and protagonist Shinzaemon in a powerfully shocking scene, truly succeeds in conveying the sickening depravity of Naritsugu, his demise being the narrative aim of the film. Coincidentally, theres something almost cartoonish about Lord Naritsugu, as he smirks through his scenes almost in the manner of a pantomime villain, smug and detestable to the very end.



While the first and second acts are enjoyable enough, they are mere precursors to the explosive third act, an extended cacophony of balletic hyper-violence. Much like Takeshi Kitano's masterful update of Zatoichi, Miike handles the swordplay and fight scenes with an incredible stillness and grace, acting as a stunning counterpoint to the bloody violence actually present in the scenes. The swordplay becomes ethereally poetic, veering between calm and composed moments of balance and wild, hacking and kinetic sword-fights.



The fight choreography is grittily realistic; theres no wire-work or characters flying through the air here. The most unrealistic we get is characters jumping from rooftop to ground rather easily, but we'll forgive Miike here, they are warrior assassins after all. People die after just one slash of a sword, or at the very least visibly sustain wounds, with the exception of Koyata (the wild mountain man) who gets a dagger through the neck but pops up, to another characters disbelief, alive and well in the next scene. However his survival and the reaction, “Are you immortal?!” works well as a comedic device without breaking the realism of the film too much.



Something must also be said for the beautiful cinematography from Nobuyasu Kita, which utilises wide angle shots in two amazingly contrasting ways. The first is the stunning landscape shots, framing the characters against the huge backdrop of the forest or the landscape, the vastness of nature acting as a metaphor for the humungous task this tiny group of thirteen must accomplish. The second is during the incredible fight scenes, when Kita separates out the manic close-ups with wide shots of absolute pandemonium, a great writhing, tangled mess of limbs and swords, twenty or thirty characters in a single frame all locked in their own individual skirmishes, yet only making up a tiny portion of the battle itself.



13 Assassins is a triumph, as smart and composed as it is bloody, Miike bringing directorial skill and confidence to an already riveting story. The third act is worthy of the ticket price alone, featuring some the best sword-play battle scenes recently committed to celluloid (or a hard-drive, but hey, same sentiment). I strongly urge any fans of samurai Jidaigeki features, world cinema or simply quality films to seek it out upon its release.

13 Assassins is released in cinemas on the 6th May.



Roger Holland



Movie Review Archive

DVD Review - My Soul to Take (2010)

My Soul to Take, 2010.



Written and Directed by Wes Craven.

Starring Max Thieriot, John Magaro and Denzel Whitaker.





SYNOPSIS:



Sixteen years after his murderous rampage, the Riverton Ripper has seemingly returned to Riverton, with the seven children born the day he died in his sights. But does one of the seven hold the key to stopping him?





Wes Craven had fallen on hard times of late, having not directed a film since 2005's Cillian Murphy starrer Red Eye. But with the recent buzzings and even more recent actual confirmations that yes, he's helming a return to the franchise that remade him in the 1990s, the Scream films, it seemed strange that he should use this as a stop-gap before embarking on Scream 4. While it apparently did receive a release in January, in 3D no less, I was entirely unaware of My Soul To Take prior to its DVD release.



Wisely dropping the '3D' from it's title, (while horror, I feel, is particular suited to 3D, it seems a post-Clash of the Titans audience is more picky with its 3D conversions) My Soul To Take instead relies on the reputation of Craven to sell itself. Thankfully, genre fans will not be disappointed.



Craven introduces us to the night of the Ripper's initial slaughter with confidence and panache, blending smart direction with enjoyable silliness (the Ripper's deep 'scary' voice is particular amusing). We then fast-forward to the present day where we meet the 'Riverton Seven', the teenagers born the night the ripper died.



While the majority of the young cast is perfectly adequate for horror, lead 'Bug' (Max Thieriot) is distressingly wooden, his 'schizophrenic moments' being particularly badly handled, relying on a rather basic stereotyping of the condition in an attempt to unsuccessfully build character. The other (though less severe) cast issue I found was that the relationships being portrayed, that of sixteen-year-olds in high school, are rather young for the target audience for the film, the average 20-30 horror aficionado, to relate to.



As it unfortunately is with modern horror, it's the third act that lets My Soul To Take down. Not just disappointingly either, but almost jarringly, as so many red herrings are thrown at the audience you wonder if Craven himself even knows whats going on. The schizophrenia is mined, devices are left unexplained and the 'bathroom mirror' set-piece pops up not once but several times. Some ideas are introduced meekly then seemingly abandoned, such as characters alluding to Bug as a 'fallen angel', the point hammered home by the seemingly incidental 'wing-hole tears' in the back of Bug's shirt. If it fitted with the actual final reveal, it would be a relevant, if a little overbearing metaphor, but as it is the reference, left dangling, is simply confusing. We understand he's supposed to be 'innocent' (he's referred to as being multiple times throughout), so the brash angel idea is just unnecessary.



While the first and second acts worked quite hard on the supernatural elements of the story, the film slips easily into standard slasher fare – the wise-cracking, deep voiced, seemingly-omnipotent killer, the screaming teenage prey – it's as if Craven, like his victims, simply cannot escape from the shadow Freddy Krueger has cast over his career. It seems strange that the auteur who created so many of the now standard horror cliches in his early work, to cheekily lampooning them in his Scream franchise, has now resorted to employing them rather lazily in a retread of a genre he's perfected and had, until now, graciously moved on from. Like his fellow Master of Horror John Carpenter, who also recently disappointed with his return to the big screen, The Ward, Craven has returned to do nothing but tread water.



While genre fans hungry for their fix of standard horror fare will lap up My Soul To Take, more discerning viewers would be best waiting for what will hopefully be Craven's triumphant return in Scream 4. Just so long as he doesn't do it in bloody 3D.

My Soul to Take is out on DVD and Blu-ray today.



Roger Holland



Movie Review Archive

Jameson Cult Film Club - Monsters (2010)

Jameson Cult Film Club screening of Monsters (2010) at The Royal College of Surgeons, London, 3rd March, 2011.



Written and Directed by Gareth Edwards.

Starring Scoot McNairy and Whitney Able.





SYNOPSIS:



A NASA space probe containing alien spores crashes in Mexico, turning the northern part of the country into a quarantined area known as 'The Infected Zone'. Photojournalist Andrew Kaulder (Scoot McNairy) reluctantly agrees to escort his boss’s daughter Sam (Whitney Able) back to America, but their only way is through the infected zone and the alien 'monsters' which reside there.





Having heard nothing but good things about Jameson's Cult Film Club events, I was especially keen to see what they'd do with British director Gareth Edward's debut, Monsters, which I'd seen on it's release last year and been very impressed with. The focus on films becoming events to lure the average cine-fan from his home-cinema and comfy sofa has been on the rise of late, with Secret Cinema, Curzon's Midnight Movies and now Jameson getting in on the act. Some fine early choices for screenings (Taxi Driver, Aliens) mixed in with a cocktail of themed gimmicks and well, cocktails, made for an intriguing mix.



As locations for a cult sci-fi film night go, I'd be pressed to think of a better one than The Royal College of Surgeons in Holborn - a grand, pillared building, lit up for the night in ominous green, foreboding against the icy London sky. The interior of the college seemed to have required only minor scenery adjustments, the long stone halls, giant photographs of the college founders and display cases lending themselves perfectly, giving the air of some sinister government institution, it's purpose unclear at best. More green lighting, a smattering of foliage and staff running around in decontamination suits added to the atmosphere, with actors portraying the characters moving through the crowds, playing their film likeness's parts rather well . The giant infected zone map at the end of the entrance hall was a great finishing touch, painstakingly recreated from the film.



Once inside the auditorium, we were treated to a brief Q & A session with director Gareth Edwards and editor Colin Goudie, although the pair remained frustratingly tight-lipped about the upcoming Godzilla reboot, recently announced as the director's next project. However Edwards did share his experience of timing the amount of time the shark is actually on screen in the first hour of Jaws (three seconds apparently) and how he adopted this approach when making his own feature.



Monsters, despite the presence of the title creatures, bears very few similarities to the monster or horror movies it was initially lumped in with. Obvious comparisons to Cloverfield and District 9 were banded around upon it's release but the monsters are minor characters here , a presence the world has largely adjusted to and sectioned off safely. Rather, the real focus of Monsters is the main characters, Kaulder and Sam, and their slowly blooming relationship. Equally reliant on each other for survival (Kaulder as the 'protector', Sam with her grasp of languages) the pair's interaction is realistic and believable, helped by naturalistic, improvised dialogue.



Initial expectations of a 'monster film' give way to a kind of indie drama by way of the road movie, with the characters discovering themselves and each other via probing questions (“Doesn't that bother you? That you need something bad to happen to profit?”) and hazardous situations , all against the backdrop of a post-alien world. It's been said that Monsters is very much a post-modern creature-feature, in that the monsters are almost a mundane inconvenience and are no longer the fantastical, main focus of the story.



Reenforcing this, the only moment when we really see the aliens properly (as opposed to mere glimpses) occurs at the end of the film in a scene so serene and touchingly handled that the aliens are practically humanised - dangerous yet misunderstood, with the same will to survive as our two leads, who stand and watch the creature's mysterious interaction with awe and respect.



Edwards has apparently stated that he had no intention of any kind of political subtext, but given the setting and the plot (and to a certain degree, the legacy of District 9) implications are unavoidable, but they work in the film's favour, further grounding the film in reality. America's recent relationship to Mexico and immigration in the wake of the Arizona Senate Bill 1070 (to give just one example) has been rather hostile, and the swift quarantining of the northern part of the country in Monsters could be read as a comment on America's approach to immigration, erecting a great wall to protect the US from 'aliens'.



Part road movie, part character study, Edward's has conjured up something entirely fresh with Monsters, utilising an on-the-fly approach to film-making to create a spontaneous, energetic and personal feature, a small-scale drama masquerading as a hulking monster movie. With such a smart approach to cinema, it should come as no surprise that he's been handed the reigns to reboot the much-cherished Godzilla franchise. A Brit in charge of Japan's most famous monster? You'd better believe it.

Roger Holland



Movie Review Archive

DVD Review - In Their Sleep (2010)

In Their Sleep (French: Dans ton sommeil), 2010.

Written and Directed by Caroline du Potet and Éric du Potet.
Starring Anne Parillaud, Arthur Dupont and Thierry Frémont.


SYNOPSIS:

Late at night Sarah (Anne Parillaud) is driving home from work when a young man runs in front of her car. The panicked boy says he caught a burglar in his house, saw his face and now the burglar is trying to kill him. But is he telling the truth?


In Their Sleep begins with an ominous shot of a pale body partly hidden in grass, unexplained until the final scenes, but it sets the tone of the film right from the start. It's a minimalist, lean feature, the compact storytelling utilised perfectly in the setup, where we meet Sarah, whose teenage son dies after jumping out his bedroom window to go out after Sarah and her husband insist he stays in and studies. We quickly fast forward to a year later, with Sarah looking haggard and exhausted, as she is reprimanded by the head nurse at the hospital she works. A quick, simple setup – son dies, mother unable to deal with grief, husband is absent (presumably he's left her), mother throws herself into work to avoid dealing with death of son. It's truly heartbreaking though, because of how natural and brilliant an actress Anne Parillaud is, playing Sarah as a broken, hollow shell of a woman with nothing but her work to hold on to.

So when Arthur (Arthur Dupont) jumps in front of her car, pale with fright, babbling about a burglar trying to kill him, the motherly instinct kicks in and it's believably handled. She takes him back to her home, bandages his arm and gives him one of her sons old jumpers to wear, a moment of sorrow and recognition flashing across her face as she sees her son in the face of this stranger.

The efficient approach to storytelling serves the film well - the quick setup, Arthur's backstory (including the reveal that he is not what he seems) and the return to the present scenes after Arthur's backstory, the audience fresh with new knowledge. The efficiency approach is present elsewhere as well – the music is minimalist in every sense of the word, quiet, looming but simplistic strings, haunting in their elegant sparseness, with a theremin wavering over scenes, providing an off-kilter strangeness that makes the film feel slightly unreal.

Also very minimalist is the gore and violent scenes, particularly the multiple throat slittings, which mostly take place in silence on sleeping victims. Unlike American horror, theres no leap of strings on the soundtrack, nor the fetishistic attention to detail we've come to expect from our horror these days thanks to the recent wave of torture porn. The violence is presented naturally and realistically, which works well in the context of the film.

However later on, once we've learned the truth about Arthur, the film starts to wear out it's welcome a little. Scenes are retrod to emphasise certain points that we could have easily worked out ourselves, and Arthur's reveal being so early in the film finds In Their Sleep struggling to maintain the tension it's built up. By the time we reach the inevitable conclusion, second guessed somewhere around the half-way point of the film, it's rather underwhelming.

Having said that, excellent performances from the leads and a taut, lean approach to film-making render In Their Sleep an enjoyable experience, providing you don't try to second guess it too much. As a thriller, it's more than adequate.

In Their Sleep is released on DVD on February 14th.

Roger Holland

Movie Review Archive

Movie Review - Brighton Rock (2011)

Brighton Rock, 2011.



Written and Directed by Rowan Joffe.

Starring Sam Riley, Andrea Riseborough, Andy Serkis, Helen Mirren and John Hurt.





SYNOPSIS:



Pinkie (Sam Riley) is a young gangster in 60s Brighton who must seduce the naïve Rose (Andrea Riseborough) after she is a potential witness to to a murder Pinkie's gang committed.





The first image of Brighton Rock is a top-down shot of the sea at night, black and impenetrable, while the score washes waves of menacing strings over the audience. You can't help but think of Scorsese's latest masterpiece Shutter Island and in terms of tone, this is a fair comparison, director Rowan Joffe nailing the film noir mix of shadowy visuals and forboding music perfectly. Cinematographer John Mathieson completely outdoes himself here, utilising vintage 60's camera lenses and a lens built specially for the film by Panavision to portray 1960s Brighton as a town on the edge, where the garish beach houses and tacky entertainment clash with the shadowy underworld lurking underneath, clawing it's way upward. Mathieson combines wide, beautiful panoramic shots with some clever smaller shots too, such as a corpse POV shot as the coffin lid is closed. Another flashy but not distracting shot is when Pinkie first speaks to Rose and appears to raise a pistol and shoot her, before it is revealed he's actually at a pier shooting game, the trick-shot acting as a signifier of the danger Rose is letting herself in for and the cold, psychopathic and selfish nature of Pinkie.



Sam Riley plays the young gangster Pinkie as a desperate but inexperienced character, eyes on the prize but not on his back, his cold, psychotic demeanor a front for the extremely vulnerable boy underneath. Riley is simply magnetic, his performance oozing menace and unpredictability, his cold stare and shrewd, flickering eyes give the impression that he's going to snap at any second. Andrea Riseborough on the other hand, portrays Rose as almost Pinkie's opposite, extremely vulnerable and naïve on the surface, but fiercely loyal at her core. Riseborough's scenes with Riley are almost painful to watch, so acutely the performances capture the awkwardness and confusion of characters wrestling with their own defects, and in Pinkie's case, lashing out to reinforce his masculinity. Equally compelling is the always reliable Helen Mirren, cast as Ida, who owns the tea shop Rose works in. A headstrong, confident yet warm character, Mirren imbues Ida with the perfect amount of class, compassion and wit, acting as the perfect counter-point to Riley's rough anti-hero.



The entire film, (like the novel and the majority of Greene's work) is shot through with catholic guilt. For one, its Pinkie's primary reason for his ever-escalating fear throughout the film. While he's terrified of dying, he's even more afraid of the eternal damnation awaiting him. In an early scene with Rose he talks of Hell, almost resigned to his supposed fate, for when Rose asks him 'What about Heaven?' he expresses disbelief that he'll ever see it. When he is chased by a rival gang and almost killed, Pinkie hides behind a beach-divider, drops to his knees and prays desperately, blood running from his hands, begging forgiveness when he believes he's close to the end. Greene himself converted to Catholicism so that he could marry his wife, and this struggle between himself and catholic teachings was a huge influence on his work, looming over his life, just as in a scene when Rose goes to a church to pray and it's filmed from just over the shoulder of a giant crucifix, hanging over the scene and the entire film. Pinkie speaks of how he's is proud to be a Roman Catholic, but he is fully aware that the things he's done and the path he's chosen to take will lead him to damnation, this contradiction further embellishing Pinkie as a complicated, terrified young man.



Adaptations from books can frequently fall into pitfalls when they change crucial details such as the setting or the time period, although some, like High Fidelity's move from England to Chicago are seamless and suit the interpretation. Thankfully, Brighton Rock's move from 30s Brighton to 1964 is not only seamless but actually enriches the story. 1964 was the last year that the death penalty was in place in England, avoidance of the gallows being one of Pinkie's driving factors. A superbly lensed dream sequence where Pinkie finds himself hung over the crashing sea of the first shot is as telling as it is elegant, the sea representing the sprawling damnation in Hell that Pinkie faces if he is caught. Another masterstroke in the films re-setting is that 1964 was the year of clashes between youth gangs the mods and the rockers, taking over Brighton and representing one of the first years of British youth empowerment, a new wave of youth culture which left the older generation terrified. In the middle of all this unrest, Pinkie's confused young gangster fits perfectly, a distinct crystallisation of a youth movement which want it all and aren't afraid to reach out and take it.



Brighton Rock is a compelling noir tale, beautifully filmed and perfectly realised. Superbly acted throughout, with Sam Riley's performance so magnetically menacing you simply can't tear you eyes away from him. A superb adaptation Graham Greene would surely be proud of, and a perfect example of all the elements in a film coming together seamlessly. Well done to all involved.

Roger Holland



Movie Review Archive

Movie Review - The Ward (2010)

The Ward, 2010.



Directed by John Carpenter.

Starring Amber Heard, Jared Harris, Danielle Panabaker, Mika Boorem and Lyndsy Fonseca.





SYNOPSIS:



After burning down a farmhouse, Kristen (Amber Heard) is institutionalised, but she is far from safe, as a ghost appears to be hunting down her ward-mates and brutally murdering them.





[WARNING, THIS REVIEW CONTAINS MORE SPOILERS THAN USUAL]



After a string of disappointments (his last decent film being the gleefully-schlocky Sam Neill starrer In The Mouth of Madness), horror genius John Carpenter went back to the drawing board. Or rather, to TV, to Mick Garris' Masters of Horror series, where he proved he can still scare the crap out of us with his best work in ten years, particularly the superb Cigarette Burns episode. So it's only right that he should return to the silver screen where he made his name with low-budget, nerve-racking thrillers and trail-blazing horror.



The Ward does feel a bit like an episode of Masters of Horror, but that's no criticism, with Carpenter utilising his tiny budget with a small cast (Amber Heard is excellent as the bold but confused Kristen) and an isolated location which is as much a character as the actors themselves. The ward where the film is set is a looming, breathing entity, all dark, moody corridors at night and cold, off-kilter sparseness during the day. The sense of dread is looming, like some hulking, unknown mass long before the ghost even shows up.



Carpenter's wise decision to set the film in the 1960s allows him to mine some of the savage and archaic medical treatments, such as electro-shock therapy for some quality scares. The genuine belief by Dr. Stringer (Jared Harris) that this barbaric procedure is beneficial is horrific enough, and the portrayal of it in the film is brutally graceful, as the camera pans down to Kristen's writhing feet as electricity shoots through her. The electro-shock murder of one of the girls by the ghost is even more harshly realised - as the voltage is whacked up to full the girl's body convulses and smokes, her flesh sizzling and burning.



Another of the ghost's murder set-pieces definitely not for the squeamish is the medical instrument torture scene, which ends in a spiked instrument being driven through the victims eyeball, the camera cutting away just after the gruesome full penetration of the spike. Thirty-five years experience in practical effects and the skills of special effects supremos Gregory Nicotero and Howard Berger serve Carpenter well, the set-pieces being extremely effective in their gory glory. But they'd be nothing without the tension, which Carpenter delivers in buckets. It'd be unthinkable if the man who brought us the nerve-racking The Thing and Halloween couldn't rack up the dread because simply put, he knows whats he's doing. The winding, foreboding corridors, the creepy score and tight camerawork imbue the film with a sense of morbid anticipation that is completely tangible.



So it's amazing right? Well, no, I'm afraid not. Masterful as the first and the second acts of The Ward are, it's in the third act when the film simply falls on its face. The ghost's corporeal presence begins to get silly (I can accept that she can pick things up, but Kristen being able to drive an axe into her body doesn't seem very, well, 'ghost-like'). As the girls get picked off, you find yourself largely unconcerned due to how underdeveloped their characters are. Also, the plot-development that the girls of the ward murdered the girl who became the ghost, their justification rather lightweight, seems distinctly unbelievable and over-the-top.



But all this could be forgivable, mere inadequacies were it not for the downright awful reveal that Kristen is schizophrenic. I really, really dislike the use of this horror cliché, so frequently the resort of lazy writers and genre hacks, surpassable in sheer unoriginality only by the 'it was all a dream' ending. Although I will admit I didn't see it coming (I expected better from my beloved Carpenter), this twist was so tediously disappointing that several of the cinema's patrons (myself included) groaned out loud in a audible wave of mutual displeasure. Carpenter can do so much better, and he really doesn't need to do the 'mirror-shock' cliché at the end either.



While it starts strong, The Ward eventually gets lost in it's own genre pitfalls, while Carpenter seems to almost be parodying himself and the genre he helped revolutionise. It's easy to blame the writers, but Carpenter wouldn't have chose to make the film if he didn't want to. Which begs the question, why didn’t he write his own feature, like in 'the good old days'? Has the man who made horror what it is today ran out of ideas? Or is it back to TV for another ten years? Incidentally, that wasn't meant to rhyme.

Roger Holland



Movie Review Archive

DVD Review - I'm Still Here (2010)

I'm Still Here, 2010.



Directed by Casey Affleck.

Starring Joaquin Phoenix.





SYNOPSIS:



Announcing his retirement from acting, Joaquin Phoenix embarks on a journey to establish himself as a successful rapper.





I’m Still Here is one of those curios, that which the hype and marketing surrounding the film end up completely overshadowing the film itself. For example, The Blair Witch Project was so ingeniously marketed via the internet (viral marketing being a relatively new phenomena at the time) that when people actually sat down and watched the film, many were disappointed. Probably because it wasn’t that great. With I’m Still Here, director Casey Affleck and star Joaquin Phoenix pulled off the near-masterstroke of convincing everyone that the film was a genuine documentary, that Phoenix was indeed embarking on a rap career and yes, he’s gone off the rails in the process. Aided by some inspired self-promotion such as the infamous David Letterman interview and his announcement that he was retiring from acting to pursue his new career, instigating a small media frenzy, the general public were genuinely under the impression it was all real. Even after the film-makers revealed the film and Phoenix’s ‘rap career’ was a hoax, this ‘mockumentary’ remains an interesting feature.



The idea for the film was born out of Phoenix and brother-in-law Affleck’s disbelief that the general public believed so called ‘reality shows’ to be real and unstaged. With this in mind, they constructed a persona for Phoenix with a view to examining the relationship between the media and the public and exploring the notion of celebrity in the process.



The film follows Phoenix as he haphazardly attempts to make the transition from successful Hollywood actor to rapper, a move that one would expect to be reasonably achievable given his status. He spends a fair portion of the film pursuing Sean ‘P Diddy’ Combs in his attempts to get his album produced by the rap star. When he finally does track him down in his studio, he appears awkward and fumbles over the choice of tracks to play to ‘P Diddy’. A live performance at a nightclub in Miami ends with Phoenix abandoning the stage to brawl with a heckler (apparently an actor in on the hoax).



The songs he writes and the actual rapping he does aren’t actually very good, but that’s kind of the point, because the film is more than anything about Phoenix failing to become a rapper than succeeding. Bickering with friends and assistants, taking drugs, throwing tantrums and generally falling apart at the seams, Phoenix is a man denied at every turn by Hollywood and the media who just want him to be ‘Joaquin Phoenix the Film Star’. The bloated, overweight, scruffy and obnoxious character is such a far cry from the clean-cut, successful movie star we’re accustomed to so that the character can actively challenge what Hollywood will ‘allow’ you to do. In this respect, the film succeeds in challenging the idea of what is ‘acceptable’ in Hollywood and what isn’t.



The film is bookended with scenes of Phoenix as a child, swimming in the large, wild pool in the family garden, with the final scenes featuring the adult Joaquin wading out into the waters, seemingly lost, while a solemn piano plays over the scene. These scenes, particularly the final one, are the most poetic and artistically beautiful of the film, being almost non-documentary in style with no sound or dialogue, just music. He wades out deeper and deeper, the film ending as his head disappears below the water, representing his isolation, the river swallowing him up as Hollywood swallows so many talented young actors.



Even with the knowledge that the film is a hoax I still found myself forgetting the fact, so absorbing and complete was Phoenix’s ‘performance’. You begin to pity the desperate, wild-eyed (well, behind the sunglasses) man just struggling to find his new place in the world and ultimately, finding himself utterly lost. While his constant tantrums do begin to grind and the somewhat aimless nature of the second act do detract, the solemn-ness of the ending refocuses the points the film set out to make. As an experiment and a documentary, I’m Still Here intrigues rather than entertains, but I’d still recommend it, Phoenix’s performance raising some fascinating questions regarding the fickleness of Hollywood.

Roger Holland



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