How i met your mother is a mixture of romance, comedy, drama and sitcom. This show is fantastic for older families who cant decide on the genre. The story line is set in New York city and is never a dull moment, it is jam packed full of great moments funny and sad but always balanced out so there is not to much sadness, romance or comedy. The show is about the story of how a man (Ted Mosby) meets the love of his life the show is set in the past of the memories of the main characters (Robin Shiboski, Ted Mosby, Lily Aldrin, Barny Stinson and Marshall Erkison) but told through Ted Mosby to his kids. I recommend this long fantastic serious to every one its never a dull moment in this world.
Best marvel movie since avengers
Not only a must own box set, a have to own box set on blu-ray. Visually stunning, awesome sound, arresting storylines and wonderful extras. A trilogy that captures the imagination like no other, seen here in maginficent and stunning definition, highly recommended.
Time-travelling, mind-bending trilogy of adventures focussing on Marty McFly and Dr Emmett Brown, attempting to repair cracks in time, covering periods from the 50s, future and wild west.
It is perfectly understandable if the idea of watching a silent movie is rather off-putting to the modern casual viewer. There are many reasons as to why this might be, such as the exaggerated performances or unnatural speed of movement, which make it difficult to relate to the characters. Some of the plots can drag or be too abstract, and then there's the unfortunate but obvious lack of sound. And while there are many silent movies out there that are highly respected and considered masterpieces by film historians and movie buffs, I would always without question recommend Murnau's 1926 movie "Faust" to anyone who has never seen a silent movie before. Here, the story neither drags nor is particularly abstract, and even some of the acting is rather good. Though, with "Faust" being a "fairy tale" of sorts, you can't expect a complete lack of cartoony performances.
The story is based on the German folk legend about a doctor who sells his soul to the Devil, after having lost his faith in both God and science, due to his inability to cure his fellow citizens from a plague. Soon after the pact is made, he realizes that selling his soul was a mistake, and sets off on a journey in order to win it back. A chance meeting with a local girl called Gretchen, however, will prove disastrous.
Another reason why Murnau's "Faust" is worth watching is because it is a visual feast of technical achievement. With its stunning photography, iconic images, gothic style and expressionistic sets, groundbreaking special effects at every turn, and fast-moving plot, this is surely one of the most accessible silent movies that exist. The visuals simply take over to the point of it being irrelevant that there is no sound, except for a music score of course.
Most of the cast is great, but stand out performances are from Emil Jannings who manages to be both scary and at times funny in his portrayal of the Devil. As the innocent Gretchen we see Camilla Horn in her first acting role, who is able to deliver a heart-wrenching performance. And finally, Yvette Guilbert who plays Gretchen's aunt, is simply hilarious!
However, despite there being several humorous moments in the film, it has to be pointed out that this is a very dark story and movie, both visually and in its mood! There is plenty of death and despair at regular intervals, though nothing too extreme since the film has a PG rating.
Eureka's release of a remastered 1080p transfer of this movie on Blu-ray comes with original German intertitles and optional English subtitles. There is a full length audio commentary, and three different music tracks, a harp score, a piano score, and an orchestral score. Further extras include a 53 minute making-of documentary, an alternative version of the entire film, a video comparison of the two versions, a 20 minute video discussion, and a 44 page booklet with essays and photographs. A DVD copy is included as well.
On Blu-ray, this is the best and most detailed that the film has ever looked, when compared to previous releases. The sheer volume of bonus material that comes with the Blu-ray/DVD package, leaves nothing left to be desired. If I had to criticize something, it would be that the print still contains too many scratches and dust particles, which could have been removed digitally. Other than that, I think it's obvious that I highly recommend this particular release of "Faust".
Superhero movies. Love them or hate them, it's impossible to ignore them. They're a phenomenon that has absolutely exploded in the last 15 years, with early 21st-century efforts like 'X-Men' and Sam Raimi's 'Spider-Man' trilogy building on the groundwork of occasional past hits (like the Superman and Batman movies of the 1970s, '80s and '90s) to set the stage for a barrage of dazzling, genre-defining films in recent years, like Marvel's 'Avengers' or Christopher Nolan's 'Dark Knight' saga.
One of the latest entries in the superhero canon is 'Amazing Spider-Man 2', the follow-up to 2012's reboot of the web-slinging saga, starring Andrew Garfield as the titular arachnid-based protagonist. Garfield's Peter Parker once again plays opposite the actor's real-life girlfriend, Emma Stone, as Parker's love interest, Gwen Stacy - and the pair's (inevitably) convincing rapport ends up being by far the best thing about this sequel.
Peter and Gwen's relationship grounds the movie, giving us a real human connection to what's going on, and encouraging us to root for Spider-Man to triumph in his personal life as much as his superhero identity. And that turns out to be pretty important - because unfortunately, the rest of the movie struggles to really give us anything to care about.
It's not for want of trying, though. As well as Peter and Gwen's romantic trials and tribulations, an imposing roster of big-name actors gives Spider-Man several super-villains to rail against: Paul Giamatti and Chris Cooper put in brief turns as The Rhino and Norman Osborn, while Jamie Foxx and Dane DeHaan have meatier roles as central villains Electro and Harry Osborn. And on top of all that, there's a separate mystery plotline involving secrets that were carried to the grave by Peter's long-dead parents, who only crop up briefly here in flashback during an early action scene, but whose presence colours the entire movie.
But in trying to cram so many disparate characters into one story - not to mention also attempting to set up several plotlines that can be carried forward into future instalments - the film ends up as a crowded, convoluted mess.
Yes, there's some basic underlying plot that joins everything together, but it's the kind of plot that feels like it's been written and rewritten so many times that it doesn't really have a shape any more: things happen without good reason, minor characters drift in and out of the story without really doing anything (presumably characters like Felicia, who disappears completely from the final act, had more to do in earlier drafts of the story), and big plot twists suddenly happen for their own sake, rather than the film building towards them logically and dramatically. Indeed, the deleted scenes on the blu-ray show all sorts of other possibilities for the story that were never used, suggesting that director Marc Webb didn't even have a real idea of where the film was going while he was shooting it.
The film also has a tone that's all over the place, with some serious darkness for certain characters (including DeHaan's Harry Osborn, who seems to be plagued by death and disease at every turn) clashing completely with hammy, campy, Saturday-morning-cartoon antics elsewhere (like the mad-scientist character who captures Electro midway through the movie). Again, it gives the impression of a movie that doesn't really know what it is, and is trying to cover all the bases in the vain hope that some of it works.
The only thing that partly saves it is the likeability of Garfield and Stone (and, to a lesser extent, Sally Field as Peter's Aunt May). But aside from some occasional romantic scenes and a couple of fun slapstick pieces from Garfield, these human aspects of the story are woefully underserved. The filmmakers simply haven't realised that all the special effects and explosive action in the world, no matter how impressive, can't trump a feeling of genuine human connection: that even the main villain's dazzling electricity-based powers can't compare to the simple spark between Garfield and Stone.
In a year that's already given us serious, grown-up superheroics in 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier'; high-concept thrills and and an unparalleled cast in 'X-Men: Days of Future Past'; and even subversive space-opera in Marvel's 'Guardians of the Galaxy', a merely adequate superhero effort like 'Amazing Spider-Man 2' just isn't enough.
Based on a true story, The Wolf of Wall Street charts the rise of fall of rouge trader Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio) whose career began in 1987 and came to an unceremonious end just over a decade later.
Director Martin Scorsese (Goodfellas) takes us on an epic journey from Belfort's first day on Wall Street, to the market crash on Black Monday, depicts his part in the penny-stocks scam and shows us how a series of shady deals by his brokerage firm; 'Stratton Oakmont', brings them to the attention of the FBI.
The Wolf of Wall Street is a cautionary tale about corporate greed but its' also a satirical look at hedonistic banality and how we define success. Leonardo DiCaprio puts in a superb performance as the smug stockbroker who's edging ever closer to the abyss: DiCaprio displays some great comic timing, crisp delivery of the witty dialogue and even manages to pull off a little slapstick. The supporting cast are uniformly excellent and we're treated to memorable performances from Jonah Hill, Matthew McConaughey, Margot Robbie, Kyle Chandler, Joanna Lumley and Jean Dujardin.
The world of finance is also a character in itself; one that tempts, rewards, betrays and deceives all who enter. For Belfort, its an unwieldy phantasmagoria of sex n' drugs and stock-control, one that will do with him what its done to others before. And in that sense, The Wolf of Wall Street has thematic similarities with Goodfellas; in that Belfort, like Henry Hill, narrates the story of his downfall with nostalgia and bravado. Belfort never apologies for his crimes because he doesn't think there's a case to answer, if anything, his only crime was getting caught.
Now the subject matter isn't new so there's some inevitable overlap with films like Boiler Room, Glengarry Glen Ross, Wall Street, The Informant! and Margin Call, but the Wolf of Wall Street is still a great film in its own right and the best Scorsese-DiCaprio collaboration since The Departed. A must see.
It had a great story line and was really enthralling. I was on the edge of my seat from just watching the trailer. I would never get bored watching it all day long. I wish that it had come out sooner.
"Wanted: Somebody to go back in time with me. This is not a joke. You'll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. I have only done this once before. Safety not guaranteed."
This statement, contained in the text of a classified advertisement published in a magazine, is the central idea around which Safety Not Guaranteed revolves. It's an immediately attention-grabbing mystery, that instantly encourages us to ask several questions. Who placed the advert? Does he really believe he can travel in time? What if he really can? And will anyone be crazy enough to take him up on his offer?
Over the course of 86 minutes, this witty, often charming little indie movie by Colin Trevorrow answers all of these queries, as well as serving up further food for thought on the subject of both past mistakes and future ambitions. Whether it answers them satisfyingly, however, is another matter - and despite some likeable characters and fun situations, there's a slight sense that this film just isn't fully-developed enough to really deliver on the promise of its concept.
Aubrey Plaza stars as Darius, a young intern at a magazine who is taken by a writer, Jeff (Jake Johnson) - along with another intern, Arnau (Karan Soni) - on a road trip to investigate the advertisement. And when they eventually discover who placed it - a man called Kenneth, played by Mark Duplass - they learn that the story behind it is more tragic than they initially realised. But as they begin to peel back the layers of Kenneth's life, they soon discover that he might not be the most reliable source of information, and that his motives might not be as pure and honest as they seem.
Thankfully, though, the movie doesn't try to be a serious thriller or a straight-faced mystery. Instead, it treats the central plot with a certain amount of irony, preferring instead to explore the personal lives of its four main characters, including the ways in which their individual pasts have led them to become the people that they are today. So, we learn about the death of Darius' mother; the carelessness with which Jeff treated women in past relationships (including an old flame that he tracks down over the course of the movie); the timidness and lack of experience that paralyses Arnau; and the possibly-misplaced sincerity that drives Kenneth to pursue his quest.
Along the way, there are enough funny lines and comedy setpieces to keep you entertained. However, there are also a couple of ill-advised detours into straight-faced action - including a heist at a technology company, and a pursuit by shady government agents - none of which really works, and all of which only serves to distract you from the characters and relationships that are the story's main strength. But even then, these feel like sketches of characters, rather than fully-formed personalities; as though maybe another rewrite or two of the script could have brought everything into slightly sharper focus, and made us care about everyone just a little bit more.
This isn't a serious movie about time-travel. It's not going to explore mind-bending paradoxes or create exciting situations based around whether someone can truly change the past. But it provides some nice ruminations about how we reconcile our past actions that we may regret with the person that they've led us become in the present day - and how those experiences go on to shape our future. It's a little bit insubstantial, and - without giving anything away - makes (to my mind) a wrong move right at the end of the movie by sacrificing much of the ambiguity that it's just spent an hour and a half building up, but despite these weaknesses it's still an enjoyable slice of low-budget hipster sci-fi that will entertain you - even if it doesn't stick in the memory for long.
Ravi Nijjar
'Her' is the story of a man who falls in love with his computer's operating system.
From that brief description, you might imagine that it's a silly comedy that wrings laughs out of such an unlikely premise; or maybe a cautionary sci-fi fable that warns us about the dangers of becoming too attached to technology. Instead, however, Spike Jonze's film is an incredibly genuine-feeling love story that's played absolutely straight, and which ends up having far more to say about human emotions and our interactions with each other than it does about our relationship with technology.
Occupying a near-future setting that's initially apparent only through fairly subtle visual clues - like the strangely straight-laced and high-waisted fashion choices, the increasing influence of oriental culture on Los Angeles, or the car-free mass-transit bullet-train system that the film's commuters use to get to work - the story centres around the character of Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix). Theodore is a down-on-his-luck writer who's just coming out of a difficult divorce, and who seeks companionship in a newly-released, unusually-advanced artificially-intelligent operating system (voiced by Scarlet Johansson), which immediately chooses the name of Samantha.
From that admittedly unusual starting point, we see the pair's relationship develop in largely the same ways that you would expect from a story about two human beings. There are pointers from the start that the two are attracted to each other - Samantha's programming is designed to enable her to learn and develop through her contact with him, and we quickly see her subtly imitating his speech patterns and vocabulary as they get to know each other - and their rapport quickly progresses to the same kind of interactions that you'd expect from the early stages of a human romantic relationship. Theodore takes Samantha on dates (carrying her around in his pocket via an omnipresent smartphone-like device); they share their life experiences with each other (Samantha turns out to be great at helping to keep Theodore organised, and encouraging his creative endeavours); and they're even able to have sex (after a fashion).
By playing the relationship so straight, writer-director Jonze sidesteps the questions or problems that viewers might have with such an unlikely pairing, making their relationship so relatable and human that it's impossible not to root for them in the same way that you would for any other couple. Which makes it all the more interesting when things get more complicated, and Theodore starts to question his decision to date a computer system. This is partly due to occasionally-uncomfortable situations that result from Samantha's increasing awareness of the world and her desire to participate in it on a more human level (even going so far as to organise a physical human sex-surrogate for herself), and partly due to Theodore's increasing neuroses about his past relationship, and whether there's an inherent aspect of himself that dooms his relationships to failure.
Amid all of this seriousness and soul-searching, however, there's plenty of gentle humour too, which satirises various aspects of modern life. As well as the regular establishing shots of smartphone-obsessed individuals sleepwalking through their lives, another good example is Theodore's job: the writer works for a company that writes fake-handwritten letters for people to send to each other without having to go through the effort of actually writing and sending them themselves (like a more advanced Moonpig, I guess). Like many of the concepts in the film, it's a little bit silly but not completely implausible, and keeps us invested in the reality of Jonze's imagined future while providing just enough of a twist to effectively satirise the real world.
Where 'Her' succeeds most, though, is in creating atmospheric, emotional (but not saccharine) scenes that encourage us to reflect on our own feelings as much as those of the characters in the film. The mood is enhanced by a lovely understated soundtrack by indie-rock musicians Arcade Fire, coupled with some beautiful photography and well-paced scenes that showcase Jonze's excellent judgement for just how long to let a scene linger: long enough for us to really understand the emotional significance of a moment, but not so long that it ever feels like he's milking it or overplaying it.
In fact, the restrained quality of 'Her' feels akin to that other great Johansson movie, 'Lost In Translation' - and like 'Lost In Translation', much of this film's success rests on its two excellent leads. Phoenix is the major on-screen presence throughout the entire movie, and is frequently called on to carry the emotional weight of a scene through facial expressions or body-language alone (especially given Jonze's predilection for tight facial close-ups that really test the actor's ability to convey genuine human emotion). But Johansson - despite only appearing in voiceover - is also required to undertake quite a difficult balancing act in convincing the audience that Theodore's operating system is both an artificial creation and a characterful individual in her own right, and something that could really be the object of genuine human affection. The entire movie depends on the rapport between these characters, and the two actors pull off the relationship flawlessly, supported by solid appearances from Amy Adams, Rooney Mara and Olivia Wilde as some of the other women in Theodore's life.
To spell out where the story goes in its final act would be to rob 'Her' of its surprises, many of which are not developments that you'll necessarily see coming. But as unexpected as some of them are, they also make perfect sense given the nature of the characters and the direction in which the story is travelling - and each one serves to strengthen Jonze's detailed exploration of human emotion, rather than distracting from it. And so what could have been a silly and disposable premise ends up being the basis for something quite unexpected, understated, and beautiful - a highly original story that uses an unconventional premise to tackle one of the oldest subjects of all: love. And it does so wonderfully.
With Hollywood increasingly saturated with epics, sequels and sci-fi lens flare, 12 Angry Men takes its viewer back to the roots of film, with solid performances, masterfully understated direction, and a riveting story.
Presented to a fan of twenty first century blockbusters, a black and white feature from 1957 may not sound appealing. It's not likely to gain points for conveying a simple story set in one room, which the camera doesn't leave for the entire film, save for bookends at either side. And yet what we have here, written by Reginald Rose and directed by Sidney Lumet, is a film that captures a struggle at the very heart of the Western model of justice.
It's a straight-forward premise: a young man is charged with murder, and a jury of twelve men must decide on a verdict. Each juror is brought to life magnificently by a cast of Hollywood legends, from Henry Fonda (who also serves as co-producer), Ed Begley, Lee J. Cobb & other notable figures from the history of cinema. Each cast member is on form, here. The steady descension many portray into their characters' personal roots of their presumption of guilt is a joy to behold, aided effortlessly by the script and direction.
Through the twelve voices in the room, Rose manages to encapsulate a truly impressive array of characters and moral positions. The film can be viewed as a case study in the validity (or otherwise) of an assumed position. The way in which contrary positions are taken by opposing jurors and how that is explored in a wonderfully natural, flowing script, speaks to the philosophy of logic and the construction of argument, as the selfish positions of jurors who just want to go home are challenged; as the sententious rhetoric of prejudiced jurors is dismantled and shown to be vacuous; and as one juror after another reveal the way in which the decision demanded of them highlight their own struggles.
Lumet's Oscar-nominated direction is simple but effective, and astonishing given the film's spacial limitations. The camera circles the jury, closing in to accentuate the building pressure affecting these individual decision-makers, and panning out at key moments to bring us back to the central issue here: consensus. Twelve Angry Men is about collective decision making among a group of people with widely differing idea of what is just and fair. As the film progresses, the viewer is challenged as much as any of the characters here and is the unspoken thirteenth juror as the question is begged: what would you decide? What do you feel is a fair?
The issue of fairness and the justification for given positions is what haunted me long after this film came to an end. As arguments on-screen are dismantled and moral positioning de-constructed, I was left examining my own basis for positions I hold and whether they would stand the test of scrutiny. It's testament to the power of this film that it reaches beyond the realms of entertainment, to speak to the validity of argument today, nearly six decades later.
The battle for fairness is an ongoing human struggle, but by the end of this film, I was left in no doubt that progress is possible and that accomplishments like this can only help in that journey. Of that, there can be no argument.
A story for the ages, Twelve Angry Men is a case study in the construction of argument and the struggle for justice in a world of assumption and moral aggrandizement. Its master-class in writing, direction and cast performances give this piece justification in its position as a Hollywood classic.
Ladybird, Ladybird is a drama-documentary based on a true story about a British woman's dispute with Social Services over the care and custody of her four children whom she's had by four different fathers. She's lost them because in the eyes of social services, she cannot function responsibly. Looking at it from the mother's point of view, she's been persecuted by British social workers who slap her down every time she almost has her life together.
This raw and wrenching film's title is taken from the nursery rhyme about children in peril. It opens up full of promise. In a pub, Maggie played by the remarkable and imposing Crissy Rock, belts out a ballad and transfixes Jorge, played by Vladimir Vega, a Paraguayan exile settled in London. She tells him about her past. We learn that Maggie has a foul-mouthed temper and a troubled life. Having been abused as a child, she never learned basic survival and social skills, existing in chaos. Jorge on the other hand is gentle, extremely giving, supportive and very patient. She's a mother of four living in a refuge all by herself. We also discover that she was persistently hounded as an unfit parent by social workers who threatened to remove her children because of her tendency to have relationships with violent, drunken louts. We soon realise that those agencies are not merely presented as simply villainous. She is her own worst enemy, a walking disaster area. Nonetheless, Jorge's love and understanding finally break through her defences. He does his best to get Maggie back on her feet and encourages her to move in with him and start their own family with all the odds stacked up against them in modern Britain. You feel there is hope in this bleak landscape despite learning quickly that their happiness is fragile but tender and special and that's what keeps you glued until the end.
Ladybird, Ladybird really does provoke pity and anger but above all, thought. The film dissects this seemingly predictable tear-jerking docu-drama not only into a painful record from life but also into the harrowing gray reality of existence, as if using a microscope to examine the smallest particles. It therefore isn't simply a case of bureaucratic injustice even though it does escalate into exactly that before it's over. Neither is it necessary to see Maggie as a pure victim to appreciate the hellishness of her ordeal. This heart-rending piece looks at how racial prejudice can be seen as contributing to Maggie's uneasy relations with various social workers, most of whom are white; Her four children are a racially mixed group. Now her new husband Jorge is a foreigner with questionable British immigration papers. The workers never say anything overtly racist, they are too correct for that, but sometimes you can guess what they're thinking. They are monstrous precisely because they seem to apply rules without any regard for the human beings in front of them - and yet we can see their reasoning, as Maggie explodes again and again. We are left without doubt though, that her biggest problem is herself. She initially lost her kids when one night, she made an inexcusable mistake, leaving her children home alone while she went out singing and locking them in the flat for their own protection and a fire breaks out leaving one of her children badly burned. Subsequently volatile and quarrelsome, she picks fights with all the wrong people from foster parents to any authority figure, badly compounding the communications failure on all sides. She wants her children back, but sees the photograph of one of them in the newspaper, offered for adoption. Now starts her long ordeal.
We subsequently watch with hope and then horror, this record of a film as Maggie and Jorge prepare for a new start with a child of their own. The social services initial concern over whether Maggie can cope become more invasive and things turn into a brutal war between one woman and her husband and the monstrous bureaucracy, taking some ghastly and unimaginable turns. Yet Maggie keeps on fighting back with all her might and you come to admire her and want her to have a family, and to take charge of her life. Despite her own shortcomings you feel something isn't right when this woman has all her children kept away form her day after day, week after week, month after month and year after year. This is highlighted quite brilliantly when a nurse in a hospital room cries at what she sees social services do to Maggie. You come to share Maggie's hopelessness and grief despite everything she's done wrong. We might not be able to forgive her but we understand her and sympathise with her.
This was apparently Crissy Rock's first film and she's not just given a good account of herself, she's performed like a seasoned veteran of the medium, acting with passionate intensity, elemental power and truth, railing terrifyingly at those around her in some of the film's most disturbing scenes. She showed mercurial range and a warm intimacy in scenes with Vladimir Vega, whose sympathetic presence softens Jorge's Prince Charming role. Some of the dialogue between the two is so natural and real - though not quite on par with some of the other Loach masterpieces such as My Name is Joe - you feel you know these people. Crissy Rock creates a woman with a big heart and big temper in equal measure. She likes to laugh but there is sadness inside. You feel like you can decipher so much for yourself to fill in the gaps of the story. Maggie is clearly looking for comfort, reassurance and a sense of belonging, and so she's a pushover for guys who buy her a drink and seem to care and therefore you understand how she's ended up in the terrible relationships she's endured. She screams, she cries and she rages against her fate. The rawness of her need and grief is like an open wound. At the same time though, we accept that she seems unfit to be a mother. But Jorge's presence is there to help her learn the hard lessons of maturity and balance and he, like we, see that she has an almost indomitable spirit.
Although a closing title says Maggie's life took a positive turn after the events seen here, the film does little to give credence to that possibility. Towards the end of the film, Maggie's fate has come to seem irremediably bleak, and Ken Loach has stirred a fierce sense of outrage. You feel that it didn't have to be this cruel. In Jorge she met that unique someone who really and truly cared and yet in spite of this wonderful foundation, it's still an uphill struggle. Some people have argued that Jorge is depicted as too much of a saint and Maggie's competence as a mother remains unexamined. I don't agree because it is the saintliness of Jorge that makes the film even more brutal and from the point of view of the social workers, Maggie isn't competent and that's what counts against her without showing her side of events because you still want her to be given the chance to keep her children.
Ken Loach is without doubt one of the best filmmakers working in cinema today. In fact he's been at the top of his game over the past six decades. It's clear to me that the director is attacking the methods of the social services and the bureaucracy of Tory Britain and defending the working classes. Yet Ken Loach has such a dialectical and flexible mind that he can effortlessly shift points of view, seeing the positive, the negative, and all shades of irony as he seeks the truth of his views honestly and convincingly. Ultimately he expresses what he deeply believes but not without allowing himself to weigh each living tissue and experience all its possibilities. He's a director who isn't a slave to his ideas and is able to immerse himself in life. He doesn't just assert his controlling idea but he wages it like a war over the enormously powerful forces that he has arrayed against it. This truly is a powerfully emotional piece of filmmaking.
I have to confess that I found the premise of the film rather appealing: Agonisingly nervous recent college graduate Benjamin Braddock is trapped into an affair with the rapacious, seductive and alcoholic Mrs Robinson, who happens to be the wife of his father's business partner and then finds himself falling in love with her teenage daughter, Elaine. The Graduate is the benchmark for every inter-generational relationship film made since. It tends to live in my imagination and probably the vast majority of the male public largely because it conjures up images of cheeky forbidden fantasies regarding older women the world over. Barring Mrs Robinson herself, played by the magnificent Anne Bancroft, the picture was a major let down for me. In fact she was that good I wish the film was called Mrs Robinson and focused more on her since she was far more interesting a person compared to Benjamin Braddock.
Primordial Generation X-er Benjamin who wears his heart on his sleeve, is a bit of a hangdog loner and loser in equal measure. He returns, having graduated from an East Coast College, to a ferociously stupid, upper-middle-class California suburb that he reluctantly calls home. Adulthood and the future beckons but he needs time and space to think things through. Unable to achieve this in the confines of his world, he can literally only float. Family and their social circle demand that he perform the role of successful, young, upward-venturing, clean-cut, all-American college grad. Not long after, Benjamin's frustrations are brilliantly shown in a hilariously ridiculous but wonderfully crafted scene where he demonstrates a new scuba diving outfit - at another one of many vile parental shindigs - bought as a birthday present by proud dad, by standing at the bottom of the family swimming pool. The isolation we see here acts as a recurring metaphor involving Benjamin being alone at last, separated and away from the suffocating and claustrophobic atmosphere of the West Coast stockbroker belt. As a result of Benjamin's weariness and disbelief, rather than an attraction to Mrs Robinson, she ends up seducing him. What they both have in common within their community is outright boredom.
To give some more credit where it's due, Dustin Hoffman who plays Benjamin, is so painfully awkward and ethical that he lends some credibility to the way in which his character acts. His disassociation and disaffection from the wealthy vacuum-packed world of the old folk who still rule the roost is extremely palpable. This is also given added strength by the striking cinematography that's clearly cutting-edge for it's time with fish-bowl juxtapositions, dappled light and pensive close-ups, even though the world we appear to be in is in actual fact trapped in a Fifties hangover, thus highlighting the old fashioned, staid and oddly demanding nature of Benjamin's parents' generation. Having said that, Hoffman's performance appears pretty farcical because his excessive awkwardness and at times, rash behaviour - taking out Elaine to a strip show - makes you wonder what on earth Mrs Robinson was doing sleeping with this geek and how the film made a star out of the actor with the same dizzying heights as his he-men contemporaries like Paul Newman and Steve McQueen. Perhaps it was that suggested vulnerability but I didn't buy it. Or perhaps it was the confusion in the character struggling between being self-absorbed and yet ethical, that gave me mixed messages and therefore made me dislike this angsty loafer called Benjamin.
Anne Bancroft is the star of the show, effortlessly stealing every scene that she's in as the sexy, shrewish and self-possessed Mrs Robinson, an embittered woman suffocating amongst the buttoned-down platitudes of her suburban deadzone. She plays the saviour, vampire-like parasite and devil so perfectly, you couldn't imagine anyone else being Mrs Robinson. She delivers a dark-hearted character consumed by self-loathing, armoured in cool cynicism. In and amongst a party that is a smear of cloying and meaningless chit chat from the gauche neighbourhood zombies, she stands out to Benjamin like a sore thumb. To play such a multifaceted character shifting from tragic to malicious is no mean feat. She represents what her daughter Elaine and lover Benjamin could become unless they do something about their mundane existence. "It's too late, " she growls at a fleeing Elaine. "Not for me!" she responds.
Elaine is played by Katharine Ross who was blessed with the ideal American sweetheart looks for this part, a symbol of rescue for Benjamin but that's where the praise ends. Her acting is so weak in comparison to the weighty performance of Bancroft that the film ends up being very broken-backed. Part of her failure to impress as an actress is the script. Benjamin falls in love with his seducer's daughter, setting in motion a fantastically unrealistic chain of events. The film dismisses the affair as quite easily forgivable from Elaine's point of view and in trying to make her elusive and angelic, also makes her appear very stupid, especially when Mrs Robinson starts spreading rumours that Benjamin raped her. With such serious allegations being made the film appears to ignore these and drives forward in a whimsical attempt to liberate its protagonist as he tries to save Elaine from the clutches of mediocrity.
The final items worth mentioning about the film are firstly its Simon and Garfunkel soundtrack. Whilst not to my own personal taste, the songs lend weight to the isolation and yearning that the protagonist feels in the film, firmly fixing his state of mind. It's certainly relevant and not diverting. There's also a brilliant performance by Murray Hamilton as Mr Robinson, a great character actor who would be familiar to Jaws fans as the obdurate Amity Island mayor. Whilst I was watching the film, I also recognised the voice of KITT the car from Knight Rider, belonging to William Daniels who plays Benjamin's father.
The film's ending is worth waiting for, though it may be disappointing for some. There's a memorable moment near this ending where Benjamin jams a cross into a church door to prevent an angry mob of old folk getting a hold of him and Elaine as they try to escape from their jaws, clearly an attack on the church. It's no fairytale climax but more of an uncertain voyage into the future. The irony of the Graduate is that the lesson Benjamin ultimately learns is one that the old folks were telling him in the first place, that he should find a nice girl his own age!
We live in the information age. Any question we can ask can be answered at the touch of a button, any knowledge we want to gain can be looked up online in a matter of seconds, and every aspect of our lives is being increasingly catalogued through all manner of digital interactions and recordings. But in a world in which this data is inevitably open to abuse - and in which the scandals created by individuals such as Julian Assange and Edward Snowden have shown that information can be used as a weapon just as easily as it can be used to educate and edify - it's only natural that we ask questions about who uses this knowledge, how they use it, and why.
Which brings me to 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier', the latest entry in Marvel's inter-connected series of superhero movies that started way back in 2008 with 'Iron Man'. Fresh from his success as part of the Avengers ensemble that earned Marvel more than a billion dollars at the global box office a couple of years ago, it would have been easy for Captain America's second solo film to rest on its laurels, and sit back and offer more of the same flashy and frothy superhero action. But instead, this sequel chooses to explore some more challenging ideas, including ruminations on how much we can trust the people who govern us, and how much freedom we should be willing to exchange for our security.
Of course, it's all dressed up in familiar superhero conventions - the costumes, the powers, the rousing speeches, and the superhuman action. And there are also a fair few returning characters and concepts from previous Marvel movies to help sustain that sense of familiarity: Scarlett Johansson again reprises her role as KGB turncoat Black Widow, while Samuel L Jackson is once again Nick Fury, the director of the high-tech super-espionage SHIELD agency that's ostensibly responsible for global peacekeeping - but which shows itself in this movie to be a more morally ambiguous organisation than we might have originally expected.
Because the events of this film are set into motion when Captain America (aka Steve Rogers, played once again by Chris Evans) begins to suspect that SHIELD may be overstepping its remit and becoming an active instigator of global unrest, rather than simply reacting to trouble and neutralising it. And when Fury reveals that the Captain's fears are well-placed - and that SHIELD is secretly working on a programme to create three giant orbiting warships that will be able to deal with threats "before they happen", it drives a wedge between our hero and his employer that threatens to destroy their entire relationship.
Using the clean-cut World War II hero that is Captain America to explore such modern, relevant and morally-complex problems turns out to be a masterstroke, as it allows directors the Russo brothers to both acknowledge how much the political landscape has changed in the past seventy years, while also having, in Steve Rogers, a character who can cut to the moral heart of the debate without seeming naive or ignorant. Captain America simply comes from another era, with simpler and cleaner moral values, and it's watching Rogers come to terms with this conflict that provides some of the meatiest and most thought-provoking scenes in the movie.
There's more to this film than just politics, though - not least in the form of the Winter Soldier himself, a mysterious assassin played by Sebastian Stan who gradually reveals his past connections with our heroes at the same time as he acts as the catalyst for countless explosive action scenes. The militaristic setting of this movie allows it to include more dangerous-looking combat hardware than in any other Marvel movie so far, with a sense of jeopardy that's greatly enhanced by the fact that most of the characters involved are trained soldiers who are ready and able to kill. As a result, the movie has a serious tone that's a far cry from the jokier, less tense likes of 'Iron Man' or 'Thor' - although thankfully the writers do manage to inject a bit of levity with the odd well-timed one-liner here and there.
As well as the compelling core ideas, interesting characters and great action, there are also some great performances from the supporting cast. Anthony Mackie makes his Marvel debut as a new airborne hero, Falcon, and there's an excellent turn from some acting newcomer called Robert Redford (yes, really, THAT Robert Redford) whose character Alexander Pierce is thankfully far meatier than what could otherwise have been a mere extended cameo turn from a bona fide film superstar. In fact, it's Redford's character who best personifies the central conflicts of this movie, all the way through to the epic battle that closes out this particular chapter of Marvel's apparently-endless cinematic saga.
Overall, this is one of the most satisfyingly adult and serious entries in the Marvel canon so far - although that's not to say that it isn't hugely fun too. The combination of the film's likeable stars with the engaging ideas, dazzling action scenes and genuinely unpredictable plotting makes it gripping and immediate in a way that hasn't always been true of Marvel's other superhero movies. And the incredibly relevant, well-thought-out approach to the subject matter of information abuse makes it feel like one of the few superhero movies with real brains to match its brawn.
On blu-ray, the film looks and sounds as excellent as you'd expect, and there's a decent selection of behind-the-scenes material and extra features to make it worth buying on disc rather than just renting or streaming it (my favourite bonus might be the 'gag reel' of outtakes - which shows that the cast were clearly having fun on set, in spite of the sometimes-serious nature of the movie).
It might not be Marvel's most out-and-out entertaining film yet - that crowd-pleasing honour still belongs to The Avengers - but it's probably the most satisfying.
This is my favourite film it is amazing! It also has a great story to it.
Terry Gilliam is not a director who makes "easy" movies. Even at his most accessible and mainstream - Twelve Monkeys springs to mind - he deliberately sets out to challenge the viewer in a way that most conventional films don't manage. You'll understand how significant it is, then, when I say that Brazil is one of his most baffling, enigmatic, and challenging movies.
It's also one of his best.
Released in 1985, the film is a surreal fable set in an indistinct future, that tells the story of a civil servant (Sam Lowry, played to perfection by Jonathan Pryce) who becomes embroiled in an increasingly convoluted and chaotic conspiracy (that begins, butterfly-effect-style, with a lowly insect being caught in a printer, then snowballs from there). Through this tale, we learn about the absurdly bureaucratic and state-controlled world in which he lives, at the same time as he becomes romantically involved with a young woman, Jill, whose face he has seen in his swashbuckling, escapist dreams.
The dreamlike quality of those sequences in which Sam "meets" Jill for the first time spills over into the rest of the movie too: everything has a heightened, exaggerated and not-quite-real feeling about it, whether it's the satirical elements (including the increasingly severe beauty treatments that Sam's mother keeps receiving to make her look younger and younger), the austereness of the government building in which Sam works, or the over-mechanised, machinery-filled apartments that we see regular people living in, amid the towering buildings that constitute the film's unnamed central city.
It's a film of both lightness and darkness. The levity comes in the form of absurd, sometimes slapstick comedy sequences that see Sam coping with the nonsensical and over-regulated nature of his everyday life. One hilarious scene sees him forced to share an office following a promotion: but instead of having two people in one room, the room is instead divided by a wall that runs straight down the middle, even though this means it runs straight through a table that both men need to use, and must therefore fight over (it's funnier than I've made it sound). Others are just flat-out odd, but at the same time endlessly inventive: the same combination that worked so well for Gilliam in his Monty Python days (and indeed his erstwhile Python collaborator Michael Palin turns up in a key role here). But the dark elements are so dark that they're jet-black - particularly when the film reaches its bitter conclusion (which I won't spoil here - all I'll say is don't go into Brazil expecting things to end well).
As well as the excellent main cast, this is a film in which acting greats like Ian Holm, Bob Hoskins and Robert De Niro show up as mere bit-part players (along with a smattering of British comedians like Nigel Planer and Jim Broadbent), providing colour and flair without ever outshining the main cast. Which would be a pretty impressive feat, given that Pryce turns in the performance of his career in his lead role here: an incredible, layered performance that ensures we both invest in him as a serious protagonist, and can laugh at him as he clowns his way through the more ridiculous trials that his life throws at him.
Finally, I have to praise the visual brilliance of Brazil, particularly when it comes to the film's design: the look of the movie was truly ahead of its time, with a hyper-real, almost comic-book aesthetic that has cast a significant influence over subsequent movies. In particular, the city exteriors here feel incredibly similar to those seen in Tim Burton's 1989 Batman - possibly due to the presence of the same cinematographer, Gilliam's frequent collaborator Roger Pratt - as well as subsequent dystopian movies like Jean-Pierre Jeunet's Delicatessen and City of Lost Children.
In short, this is a fantastic-looking, well-acted and imaginatively-conceived film that challenges the tyranny of bureaucracy and celebrates the absurdity of existence, while mixing dystopian elements that would feel at home in Orwell's 1984 with unhinged comedy that could only come from the mind of someone touched with insanity like Gilliam. Unique, moving, funny: it's well worth a watch.
Ravi Nijjar
Ambitious. Complex. Baffling. Unique.
These are just some of the words I would use to describe Cloud Atlas, an adaptation of the 2004 novel by David Mitchell that featured six separate "nested" stories-within-stories, spread across a time period that began in the mid-nineteenth century and ended in a far-flung future. Reworking the structure of the novel for the film, its three directors - Andy and Lana Wachowski, along with Tom Tykwer - retain the six individual vignettes, but instead flit back-and-forth between the various narrative strands to create a beguiling, thought-provoking and sometimes enigmatic tapestry of stories, that strives to capture some kind of essential truth about the human condition.
That might sound like a pretentious way to describe the film, but in many ways this is a film that defies conventional description. Its six stories couldn't be more different, taking in different genres (historical; romance; comedy; sci-fi; thriller; fantasy) different tones (stretching from deadly serious to pastiche) and completely different characters. And while they do connect in certain subtle ways - and are all set in the same "world", broadly speaking - they remain largely separate, never being brought together as one contiguous narrative (as you might expect from the resolution of a more conventional movie).
However, certain aspects of the film do prevent it from merely feeling like six different stories, randomly smooshed together. The first is the common cast: an enviable list of big-name actors (Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugh Grant, Susan Sarandon, Jim Broadbent, Hugo Weaving, Ben Whishaw, and more) is put to good use by casting each one in a different role in each of the six stories (with a couple of exceptions). For example, while Tom Hanks may be one of the central players in the far-future segment, he makes much briefer appearances as totally different people during the sections set in the present day or 2144 (in which some of the bit-part players from the far-future section will in turn have more prominent roles). While this may seem gimmicky at first, it actually ends up being quite important to some of the deeper ideas explored by the film.
It's these deeper ideas that provide the second unifying factor. Because despite the six stories dealing with totally different plot points and groups of characters, certain ideas do keep cropping up throughout each of them. The concept of common human experiences and relationships being repeated over the centuries is an important one. So is the exploration of the relationship between reality and fiction, and the way in which "real" experiences can be recycled as fictional ones without losing any of their power (and in some cases, gaining a lot more). And along with the representation of different belief systems, the film also raises the (possible red herring) of reincarnation, and the idea that human souls can be eternal, even though our mortal bodies are subject to the inevitable ravages of time.
Luckily, these high-minded and philosophical ideals are grounded by performances that really bring them to life in an accessible and relatable way, and a script that manages to retain a certain amount of clarity without sacrificing depth - especially given that it's forced to keep things fairly simple and easy-to-follow as the film bounces around between the different stories that are simultaneously unfolding in different eras. As you get towards the end of the movie's demanding runtime (close to three hours), there's a certain amount of satisfaction in gradually realising how all these stories are connected, and how the messages and experiences that are depicted in one reinforce something you've seen happening in another.
While I would definitely recommend this movie, it's with the caveat that it probably won't click with you immediately (if it does at all). At first, you'll likely be somewhat confused and disoriented by the way the different story strands are introduced so separately and differently, and the way familiar faces keep cropping up in such different contexts. But if you give it a chance, and let the film's grand puzzle gradually unfold in front of you, you'll be rewarded by a multi-faceted story, featuring some impressive performances, that delivers an emotional and intellectual cocktail that's quite different to anything else I've seen.
Is it a perfect film? No. Does it always achieve the levels of profundity that it grasps for? No. But at least it's trying - and in a world in which cinema is increasingly dominated by brain-dead action movies, repetitive rom-coms and unimaginative shouty comedies, I have give Cloud Atlas a hell of a lot of credit for that.
Masters of Sex is the story of the beginning of the sexual revolution. It's an intelligent drama that mixes visual style and flair with thoughtful story-lines and affecting performances from a likeable and capable cast. It tells the story of the professional careers, after-hours goings-on and often difficult home-lives of Dr. William Masters (Michael Sheen) and Virginia Johnson (Lizzy Caplan).
Bill Masters is fertility expert investigating the biology of sexual response, that is ahead of his time and technically brilliant, but also arrogant, emotionally standoffish and socially inept. He is (heartbreakingly for his wife) unable, or unwilling, to impregnate her, despite her being desperate to start a family. Their sex life is (un)surprisingly rather detached and slightly stagnant, until it is torpedoed entirely when Masters and Johnson begin to mix work with pleasure.
Virginia Johnson is the single working mother in a man's world who is trying desperately to be equal to the men around her. She is actually far better academically but still finds it hard to climb the greasy ladder of success in the world of work. She becomes Masters' trusted colleague and eventually his research assistant as they delve further into their study, both becoming increasingly entangled in their work and each other, professionally and sexually. Johnson is able to relate to people on a real and emotional level, in a way that Masters never could, making her essential to the success of the research that they are performing.
Sheen is excellent as Masters, a complex character, that is condescending and arrogant, yet occasionally nurturing, loving and caring. His range is impressive and he really inhabits the role fully with genuine skill and ability. Caplan takes on one of her most impressive leading roles yet, as Johnson proving beyond doubt that she is so much more than a supporting actress in rom-coms. Their chemistry together is perfect: from detached and aloof work colleagues to should-we-be-doing-this lovers their character arcs and interactions are a joy to watch.
Despite Masters being married and Johnson having other love interests the focus on their relationship is a large part of the show. Their path from simple work colleagues to research partners to eventually lovers is well written, delightfully acted, poignant and honest.
Excellent support from a strong cast including Caitlin FitzGerald as Bill's increasingly estranged wife, Libby, Nicholas D'Agosto as Dr. Ethan Haas, the playboy with a nasty streak, Beau Bridges as the sexually-confused University Pro-Host, Barton Scully and Allison Janney as his sex-starved, rejected wife Margaret. Their characters are all vitally important to the show, fully-rounded with interesting and developed personalities, all with their own secrets and personal motivations for their actions.
The direction is excellent and the locations, internal decor, white goods, telephones, clothing, makeup, hairstyles and cars are all beautifully aligned to the period of the 50s. It all makes the show feel real and of the moment, giving it real life and verve. And as the 50s is one of my favourite periods of history it's a delight for me to watch.
This Movie won awards on both side of the Atlantic Bafta's and Oscars the Cinematography i agrees was outstanding but the story line is Rubbish and overall it is boring! why it won so may awards I don't understand there were better movies nominated for both Bafta and Oscars I'm so glad i rented this and not bought it the few minutes i saw were enough to send it straight back , this film should have won the Raspberry for the over hype reviews it got .I think the guys in the space station would have found this not entertaining !.
Across 110th Street is quite simply an underrated and underappreciated masterpiece that left an indelible impression on me. A brutal, gritty, grubby and bloody crime melodrama released in 1972, the film touches on many topics that are still relevant now as they were then.
The film's plot is built out of the accumulation of violent repercussions and payback. Some black gangsters and Mafioso matter-of-factly tally the week's bounty accumulated from the numbers game in an anonymous Harlem tenement. Two black small time hoods dressed in police uniforms burst through the door. Minutes later and the hoods with the help of a getaway driver have made off with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of dirty money whilst the bean-counters lie pulverised by a hail of bullets.
Across 110th Street is an unremittingly violent account of a pair of New York City cops - one black and by the book, trying to gain promotion on his own terms, the other a miserable, streetwise, crude white bigot on the verge of retiring - assigned to track down the three small-time Harlem hoods who held up the numbers game syndicate transaction stealing three hundred thousand dollars from the Mafia and killing seven in the process, including three black gangster flunkies, two Italian Mafia bagmen and two cops, clearly irking just about everyone in the city. Since two police officers were killed and in particular, because one of them happens to be white, there is a greater sense of urgency from law enforcement authorities in catching the three fugitives.
The gears of mob justice begin to crank as the robbers-cum-murderers are also being hunted down by the sadistic and blood-thirsty Mafioso errand boy gangster, Nick D'Salvio played to perfection by Anthony Franciosa who receives his assignment to retrieve the money and send a message to black Harlem that says never mess with the Mafia. He seeks revenge scouring the city in the knowledge that this mission is a last chance for him to win favour with his superiors and gain seniority in the mob.
From the moment after the robbery, the film grinds relentlessly and inexorably toward the ignoble outcome that you sense awaits the three fugitives who are being chased from all sides, echoing Fritz Lang's underworld masterpiece M.
The towering powerhouse of an actor that is Anthony Quinn plays the nominal hero Captain Mattelli, a fifty-five year old white detective whose secretly been on the take for a few years and threatened with being pushed out by a new upstart cop, Lieutenant William Pope, who also happens to be black. Mattelli spends much of the picture's time resisting two unplanned retirements; his superiors on the force cripple his authority by assigning him to work under no-nonsense Pope, while the Harlem thugs - headed by the vocally ravaged Doc Johnson played by the exceptional Richard Ward - who have long paid for Mattelli's services, hint that they're no longer needed. The two cops themselves have an uneasy partnership. Like D'Salvio, who is driven to psychopathic rage at the slightest provocation, and like the fugitives themselves, Mattelli speeds through the film in a state of crazy desperation, flailing savagely at the world while barely a step ahead of his own obsolescence. Despite their fragile relationship and different ways of working, the tow cops eventually come together to find the three destitute robbers before the mob spreads their blood all over Harlem.
Across 110th Street deftly interweaves the tragic actions of corrupt cops, vicious gangsters, and the criminals hunted by both. It's a gutsy affair, given a distinct lift by the Harlem locations, and between the bouts of physical aggression, there are wonderful moments of insight into the fraught relationship between Mattelli and Pope. The film also lays bare the blatant bigotry that is inherent in the police force through the interactions with the Harlem residents who become entangled in this violent mess. Every query or comment hints at ignorance and suspicion. For example, Mattelli in one scene appears to assume that because a victim's estranged wife is black she may not be able to read his contact details.
Violence at the expense of the black community, has seldom been more candidly dissected and critiqued in American film as it is in Across 110th Street. What distinguishes its bloodletting from that in other Hollywood films of the time is its unsparing inescapability and its matter-of-factness - these qualities give the work its moral charge. The violence visited upon the characters satiates no one, neither characters nor spectators, and none of the deaths is likely to bring a cheer even from the most sadistic audience. Violence is meted out with gusto, but clinically, with a clear, chillingly mundane purpose in mind - to preserve power. After all of the carnage, the status quo doesn't change one iota by the film's end. The Mafia consolidates its control over Harlem, and almost every major character and several minor characters (both the implicated and the innocent) face the highest probability of losing their lives in the crossfire.
There have been American gangster films and those about the mafia since the very early years of American cinema. But long excluded from these epic tales of power, crime, greed and corruption, has been the meaningful depiction of the black community both in terms of their heavy involvement in organised crime and as a major source of revenue through the various rackets, not forgetting to mention Harlem's undoubted lucrative reservoir of financial potential. This film depicts Harlem and its importance to the mafia as well as the influence of the black mob within this structure. The 110th Street title of the film is an informal boundary line where different factions control the underworld along racial lines. Beyond 110th Street is 'no man's land" for the Mafia; the only way they control Harlem is through the black mob that ultimately works for them.
One of the major themes covered in this work is the way in which people live and how they struggle. Those with maladies, no education and no hope are left with two choices; struggle or take the easy way out. For the three hoods, the easy way out proves to be the wrong choice.
Another of the film's important subjects is racism. The racially charged dialogue is on fire and speaks volumes on the futile struggle of race relations on multiple levels, leaving us feeling sympathetic with the plight of the three fugitives' lives, for all those caught up in their act of aggression and for black Harlem in general. It appears that the only way to attain power in the ghetto for a black man is to be involved in organised crime on a major scale, in other words to be a gangster. The exchanges between the white and black mob factions are incredibly tense and this tension isn't just relegated to the mobsters but also to the forces of law and order. The film also questions whether the American dream was designed with black people in mind.
Across 110th Street further benefits from one of the best musical scores of the 70s by J.J. Johnson and songs by Bobby Womack. Where music is also used is equally brilliant as the score itself. For example in the scenes of violence and torture, there isn't any music. Instead the soundtrack is filled with the blood curdling cries and screams of pain acting as a substitute for any musical alleviation. The lack of music intensifies the grim finality of those sequences. The film owes much of its notoriety to the memorable theme song from which its title derives, a majestic soul-funk classic in its radio incarnation. The picture itself appropriately presents a more downbeat version over its opening credits. It's a musical chronicle of inner-city pain that was also incongruously used by Quentin Tarantino in Jackie Brown.
Another noticeable strength of the work lies in the adopting of a documentary approach in many of the scenes that, when combined with the accomplished performances throughout the cast, adds to the realism immersing the viewer in this world of carnality, corruption and cruelty. The director Barry Shear chose to film on real-life Harlem locations, using a newly perfected portable camera and the capacity to shoot in close quarters contributes mightily to the film's aesthetic of claustrophobia. Shear has succeeded in creating a volatile expression of race relations through the use of a gun, knife or fist pointed at close ups of bugged out eyes, facial twitches and fear engulfed visages.
I'm not one for excessive violence but the gruesomeness in this debauched landscape stands out. There isn't a non-stop barrage of action but the brutality on display at key moments in the film is incredible. Squibs flow generously from bullet riddled victims and the torture scenes, whether onscreen or off, have a visceral punch about them that stands with today's level of ferociousness on the screen. One scene in particular that springs to mind is when Mafioso Nick D'Salvio locates the driver of the getaway car carrying the robbers, Henry Jackson, played by the charismatic and scene stealing Antonio Fargas of Starsky and Hutch fame, whopping it up and having a grand time in a whorehouse filled with loose women, transvestites and all manners of lowlifes. As Nick is about to savagely crucify Henry, one of the prostitutes that was enjoying Henry's time and money suddenly seems to not care about his fate as one of the gangsters gives her some money after handing over his clothes. If that isn't enough, after Henry's torturous ordeal at the hands of Nick and on his way to hospital in an ambulance, Captain Mattelli shows no humanity whatsoever as he interrogates Henry with an air of racial contempt so that he can get him to divulge information about the names of his associates.
Often unfairly marketed as a blaxploitation film - although it probably profited from this deceptive tag affixed to it - the film has a great deal more to say than simply showing enjoyably over the top car chases, shootouts and comic book heroes and villains. The Hollywood "black film" of this period thrived by providing its black inner-city audiences with vicarious thrills via the adventures of heroic black dicks or stylish black scofflaws who stick it to The Man. They were winners on both grand and intimate scales. In marked contrast, when D'Salvio defiantly hails Henry in a Harlem Bordello with a cheerful profanity, it's a prelude not to the mobster's own pistol whipping at the hands of a black James Bond but rather to the savagely inhuman beating of the fugitive. With the indifferent blessing of the black henchmen accompanying D'Salvio on his murderous errand, as prostitutes scream and businessmen flee for the exits, Henry is pummelled with jackhammer force.
The individuals and situations populating 110th Street are all too real. This is aided by the presence of strong performances right the way through the cast list and a tightly written screenplay with incendiary dialogue that make the more vicious sequences that more savage even when we see nothing at all. One of the rare dramatically race themed films out there to this day that transcends the brutally comic book confines of the genre, Across 110th Street emerges as a thought provokingly depressing view of, racism, chaos, and corruption in all manner of society from the squalor of the underprivileged and impoverished, to the civic protectorate and also the upper echelon of the crime syndicates that control whole cities.
The film's power stays with you long after you've seen it. You feel like you remember Across 110th Street as a bloodbath not because the story is filled with violence but because nearly every barbarous act yields equally ferocious consequences that we don't always see but the director cleverly leaves it to our imagination through the voices of actors describing the outcome of a heinous act. I vividly recall the scene when the robbers gun down the gangsters from whom they steal the money. The blood spilt from all over the dead bodies as seen from the POV of one of the robbers makes him realise the monumentally grave situation he inadvertently finds himself in and it's that sort of meticulous detail along with the depraved levels of brutal torture that the mafia lieutenant Nick D'Salvio concocts which make the film so memorable. In fact even before you see the acts of violence and torture, just through the wonderful performances of the cast, you realise that these characters are really mad and out to make an example of these hoods who dared to steal from their clan.
There are very few signs of redemption in this realist film other than from Pope played by the effortless Yaphet Kotto. You hope that Mattelli can attain whatever it is that he desires and Quinn's saddened face makes you long for him to redeem himself. What we have here is a negatively charged vision of American civilisation's decline and of humanity's dark dimensions. It's life as we dread it to be but know it so often is. In many ways, Across 110th Street is a non plot since nothing really changes within the cynical world of the story but yet we gain a sobering insight into the world of our main characters and something changes within us. There is the relentless and blood thirsty pursuit of the fugitives and the bleak outlook for Mattelli but there always appears a way out for the characters along the way and they seem to make life difficult for the hunters. I urge you to watch this film that will engross you from start to finish.
Films based on toys haven't got a great track record. Transformers, the Masters of the Universe He-Man movie, Battleship and GI Joe might have had reasonable box office success over the years, but you'd be hard pushed to find a critic who would agree that any of them were really great movies.
My expectations were therefore low when I heard that "The Lego Movie" was in the works: although I had enjoyed Lego toys very much as a child, I struggled to see how you could really turn it into a decent story, let alone a high-profile flagship animated movie.
Well, this is why I don't work in the movie industry. Because under the inspired guidance of writer-directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, The Lego Movie has turned out to be one of the most impressive kids films in many years.
Everything that a good children's movie needs is here:
- Impressive visuals, check: the beautiful world that the movie creates manages to capture the amazing trick of feeling authentic - ie. like real Lego - while also feeling truly alive with its own energy, replicating a real-life stop-motion feel with its animation techniques. Even though most of the animation is presumably CGI, it's testament to how good it is that you honestly can't tell in places: these could be real Lego bricks living and walking around.
- Fun characters, check: the film's relentlessly cheery everyman character, Emmet Brickowski, is a perfect leading man, naively bumbling from one bad situation to another before winding up playing the reluctant hero - and his supporting cast is filled with enjoyable players (like love interest Wyldstyle, the schizophrenic Bad Cop/Good Cop, or the mysterious, mystical Vitruvius) that round out the story nicely.
- Good jokes, check: the film is filled with hilarious gags - many of which will go straight over the kids' heads, but just as many of which will hit the target perfectly for a young audience (personally, I loved the running gag in which people constantly ask Wyldstyle "are you a DJ?"). And everything moves so fast that even if one or two jokes fail to land, there will be another ten or so in quick succession that will quickly have you and the kids laughing again.
- And a strong underlying message, check: because as strange as it might sound for a movie about Lego, this film actually carries some genuine and heartfelt moral lessons about the importance of individuality in a sea of conformity, and the power of the imagination.
But all that is just scratching the surface of a movie that's consistently enjoyable for all of its 100-minute running time for all sorts of other reasons, too. I haven't even mentioned the inspired cameos from characters from other franchises, who never outstay their welcome but who provide moments of outright hilarity in their Lego-fied forms (special mention must go to Batman, who constantly threatens to steal the show from under everyone's nose).
There's also the high-energy soundtrack that keeps everything whizzing along (if you're not singing the insanely catchy pop-song "Everything is awesome!" by the end of this movie, then you obviously haven't been paying attention), as well as the surprising mixture of live-action footage with the animated segments in the second half of the film (which initially feels odd, but ends up making perfect sense given the places that the story goes).
Finally, I have to praise the amazing voice cast - which includes such luminaries as Liam Neeson (utterly hilarious as Bad Cop/Good Cop), Morgan Freeman (doing his usual 'god' thing as Vitruvius) and the delightfully unhinged Will Ferrell as Lord Business, the villain of the piece who ends up being a little more complex than that.
All in all, this movie doesn't put a foot wrong, and manages to pull off the seemingly-impossible task of feeling like a genuinely great kids film in its own right, rather than merely the feature-length Lego commercial that I had feared it would be.
Move over Pixar - it looks like there's a new toy story in town.
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