Fulltime Casual - An Australian Film and TV Podcast

From TV Tonight via Alex.

Shia LaBeouf is in absolutely everything at the moment, and his latest release is D.J. Caruso’s action/thriller/science fiction-esque Eagle Eye. LaBeouf plays Jerry Shaw, who along with Rachel Holloman (the delicious Michelle Monaghan) are contacted by a mysterious woman who begins to dictate their actions via mobile phone.

Caruso has previously directed LaBeouf in the commercially successful Disturbia, and Michael Chiklis in several episodes of The Shield. The director has obviously paid a lot of attention to the action elements of the film, which Eagle Eye has in spades. Verbs like “relentless”, “explosive”, and “non-stop” might be appropriate to use in describing the pacing of the film with the characters leaping from precarious positions to dire situations as they’re manipulated by the woman on the phone. Caruso certainly didn’t want even the most ADD afflicted members of his audience to get bored on this outing, and the screen lights up frequently with explosions, obviously over-cranked car chases, and plenty of gun play.

Eagle Eye had the potential to be a paranoia-inducing look at the state of surveillance technology and fear following the September 11 incident, and its implications on self determination, privacy, and the FBI’s Magic Lantern and Omnibus initiatives. There were some indications early on the film was heading that way, but in reality these were just used to set up the main premise of the film which swiftly dropped all shreds of believability.

By far the most annoying aspects of the film are the way patriotism and terrorism are rammed down our throats as the motivators of every action. That plot elements are telegraphed so far ahead, the Bourne-syndrome editing (where by the audience is given the impression of frantic activity by not being able to track what’s happening on screen), the obvious plot holes, and the terrible ending to the film only serve to make Caruso seem a little closer to Michael Bay 2.0.

Billy Bob Thornton plays a respectable Agent Thomas Morgan and Rosario Dawson is lacklustre as Agent Zoe Perez. LaBeouf and Monaghan really only need to run around and yell at each other for most of their onscreen time, and feel a little wasted and disconnected as a result. The film generally looks good apart from some of the previously mentioned over-cranked sequences which looks like video, and a couple of suspect comps. It’s entertaining but was a missed opportunity.

2.5 stars

As mentioned on the previous podcast, we want to know what your favourite Coen Brothers film is. You can vote for up to 3 films.

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The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor brings the series back to the silver screen with a new mummy that isn’t, 3 bouncing yetis, and an airsick vomiting Yak. Yeah it sounds great.

Jet. Fucking. Li. At one time his name would have been enough for me to go watch anything and grin like fiend right the way through. That was before the Westernisation of Jet and his progression from Danny the Dog, to Fearless, then The Forbidden Kingdom, and now The Mummy.

It turns out that Jet Li is actually a pretty god-damn average actor, but still better than Statham and not so wooden.

My biggest bone of contention with The Mummy is that it felt like the film makers just didn’t give a  fuck about what they were putting on screen. A key actor has been replaced, Brendan Fraser’s Australian son looks more like his brother - (probably because there’s only 13 years between them), and there are seemingly random additions to the plot, probably because they couldn’t think of anything else to progress the story (”I know, suddenly Yetis!” “Yeah, on Springs!” “Oh and now he’s a dragon!”).

It’s a B grade movie with far too much budget, if Brendan Fraser didn’t take himself so seriously it could be passed off as parody. Instead it almost seemed like a self-promotion piece, lacking any of the charisma from the earlier films. Directed by Rob Cohen of The Fast and the Furious, the film is tedious and never gives the audience a reason to become anxious - something that should be pretty important in a monster film. Instead this is designed to be fluffy family-friendly comedy/action film and even on that level it fails: it’s not funny, you don’t care what happens to the characters, and really you’re just waiting for it to all be over so you can go home and floss the popcorn out of your teeth.

Not as bad as Hellboy but it certainly tries to come close.

2 stars.

Sometimes a movie comes along which makes me question my filmic tastes, and whether or not I should shoot my mouth off about what I do or don’t like. I was never a student film maker - rather a student vfx guy wanting to build the explosions and gun shots, rig and animate the characters, then blend it all together so it looks like the guy leaps from building to building. I like well done work and much of what’s on screen in Death Race is suprisingly good from a visual stand point; I found myself grinning and entertained for a considerable portion of this film yet wonder if that makes me a bad person?

Death Race is a depthless action spectacular; sometimes artful in it’s excecution but never beautiful. For the most part it’s a roaring, mindless, brute of a thing: It splatters and pulps and makes things go boom. It’s like Burnout meets Mad Max and the video game influence is obvious in some of the slick presentation and driving sequences. The cars are the real stars of the film and look stunning in their over-engineered cyberpunk aesthetic, given the script and acting it would be nice to think the excellent art department got the lions share of the pay packet. By far the most impressive thing about the film was the realism - not the realism of the non-existant story, characters, or laughable premise, but the real cars, real precision driving, real fire and explosions, and the real and gob-smacking demise of a big bad.

That said, once you get past the exciting parts there’s not very much film in there. The script, such as it is, really is terrible. The dialogue is stupid, the delivery is poor, and if you engage your brain at all it will scream at you “You’re currently giving me brain damage! Hello! What the fuck are you being subjected to?!” Given the pedigree of the director/writer/producer Paul W.S. Anderson (who was responsible for foisting Mortal Kombat on an unsuspecting public) I’m actually surprised by how much I enjoyed of this film.

The final third of the film gets a bit more watery, I guess Anderson figured he had to try and wrap things up. Kind of hard when the film didn’t really have any other point that making you grip your metaphorical testicles and hoot at the screen as the adrenaline and testosterone kicked in. Jason Statham plays the lead with his typical lack of ability as an ex-race driver framed for the murder of his wife, Joan Allen shows why she’s never won an Oscar or BAFTA in her role as Hennessey, the iron fist in velvet glove prison warden, and Ian McShane shows that even actors involved in the brilliance that was Deadwood still need to make a buck by doing what ever is on offer. Yet despite the innumerable flaws and the real lack of any redeeming features a young student film-maker may find here, I still grinned like an idiot at the cars and the stunts - I should hang my head in shame.

2.5 stars.

Steve Coogan is a first time director in Vietnam to shoot the next great war flick. His stars are Robert Downey Jr., an Australian actor of the method school who’s actually donned surgical blackface to play an African American, Ben Stiller, an action-star hack at the tail-end of his celebrity, and Jack Black, the star of cookie-cutter LCD comedies. The film is over-budget and they’ve just bungled the big pyrotechnics shot they can’t afford to do again.

At the suggestion of Nick Nolte, the autobiographer upon whose story the fictional film is based, Coogan decides to reinvigorate both his own artistic direction and that of his actors by having them airlifted far from the set and crew to method-act their way in isolation while they’re filmed guerilla style by cameras mounted in the trees. Coogan promptly absents himself, and the fictional platoon take their prop rifles into the jungle where they run into an organisation of drug-producers with real rifles.

Hilarity, theoretically, ensues.

Between Robert Downey Jr.’s apparently inevitable superstardom and loud protests against the use of perjoratives for the intellectually disabled, it’s been hard not to notice a growing buzz around Tropic Thunder. A good cast, a promising premise… I was even looking forward to it. Which is weird, because it’s directed by Ben Stiller, and I’ve seen Night at the Museum. I don’t know what it is, but even though he pretty much never makes a good film, I still keep on thinking he’s talented. His underserved goodwill has now officially dried up with me.

This film definitely has moments, but for most of its running time, it’s a terribly average family-friendly comedy in the usual Hollywood mould. It starts off fast and sells you some good gags, slows in the second act as the gags thin out and ends up in mawkish drama with some cheap redemption and a dull resolution. And just like the usual Hollywood comedy, there just aren’t enough good gags to sell the premise of the thing, so you’re left watching the plot that should be between laughs and thinking about how silly and implausible the premise is in the first place.

The possibilities for self-deprecation, irony and general cleverness inherent in movie stars making a movie about movie stars making a movie are, if not completely wasted, sorely underutilised. This is really disappointing, because all of the best bits of the film satirise the industry, and they really are hilarious when they work.

Before the credits even roll there’s a series of great fake trailers for films that the fictional actors have supposedly starred in. Like great satire, which is too rare, they’re so close to indistinguishable from the real thing that they become not just a comment on the industry but an insult to it. The same goes for the other standout moment, Downey Jr.’s bit about taking handicapped roles as Oscar-bait.

Just generally, Robert Downey Jr.’s highly stereotyped Australian actor playing a highly stereotyped black American is as funny and absurd as an actor of his formidable talents can make it, and there are occasional moments of subtlety in the comic timing where he really goes above and beyond.

But then he’s back in frame with the wasted talents of Jack Black, who ends up being a nothing character, and Ben Stiller, who’s the same character he always is – of which I’ve had enough.

There are some good cameos (especially from an unusually game Tom Cruise) and the occasional bit of war-movie parody that’s kinda fun… but overall, as much as I’d love to recommend it for its rare moments of genuine inspiration, I can’t. If you’re going to see it, wait for channel BT and watch just for the trailers and Downey Jr.

Taken uses a well-worn plot of a retired government agent forced back into action by events threatening his family. In a shocking twist it turns out that men in their late 50’s aren’t so great at jumping from high things onto moving objects, dodging bullets, and tend to get out of breath! No, just kidding - it’s more  of the same.

Luc Besson co-wrote and co-produced Taken and it follows pretty similar lines to the other action films he’s involved with: supporting cast tend to exist just to give the protagonist something to attack or protect (the Transporter series, Danny the Dog, or Ong-bak), and we get to the action without too much difficulty. Before we get to the real reason for watching the movie we are subjected to some pretty schmaltzy father-daughter-ex wife-new husband  conflict, but thankfully it’s only there to set up Bryan (Neeson) as someone who puts duty first at the expense of blah blah blah. You know exactly what this is about so lets get to the meat.

Taken is fun but not especially inspiring, the action sequences don’t blow believable too far out of the water and it looks like there were a lot of practical effects and stunt work, which I for one was really pleased about. Directed by the cinematographer Pierre Morel (again involved with War, the Transporter and Danny the Dog) the film looks great, the shots are tight and well framed, and the editing is nicely paced and proficient. Apart from a dodgy window replacement or two, the effect work was pretty seamless and well done by the French crew.

When the dialogue switches to French or Albanian we’re not provided with subtitles, personally I didn’t mind so much as it doesn’t hinder your comprehension of the film, and when the main character doesn’t understand what’s being said around him I don’t think the audience needs to either. The story itself is pretty predictable and you never feel like Bryan or his daughter Lenore (Maggie Grace) are in real danger, but there’s also some gritty stuff to be chewed with some uncomfortable scenes of drug abuse and prostitution. Bryan is almost Batman-like in his ability to dodge bullets, and the Audi looks to have provided the cars as they’re heavily featured.

All in all it’s not a bad film once you get past the first 30 minutes, but nothing especially memorable.

2.5 stars.

When someone says to you “let’s watch a film by Guillermo del Toro, it’s a sequel but he wrote and directed it!”, it would be understandable to get a little excited. When they go on to tell you he went crazy with the creature design, and the creature effects were done by Double Negative, then you’re likely to illicit a little squeal of excitement. If the next thing your told is that while its a monster film, its really a buddy flick / action romance / physical comedy, you’re likely to wonder how this related to the guy responsible for pans labyrinth, and what the fuck happened to a once-great director?

Hellboy 2 doesn’t know what it’s supposed to be and so tries to be everything at once, thus makes a mess of it all. It’s taken the elements of the first film that worked and rather than refining or innovating, has decided that more is obviously better - that always works don’t you know. The story is predictable, the inter-species relationships theme kind of revolting, and the acting is cheesier than your high schools end-of-year production. On the plus side the character design is quite typical of del Toros films and well excecuted, although there are times when it feels you’re watching the Jabba scene from the revised edition of Return of the Jedi (you know - the one with the singing), there’s also a pseudo stop-motion scene at the start of the movie that was quite charming. Hellboys’ weapons look like props and the sets tend to look like … well, sets.

Despite some nicely done sections, I really hated this film and what its done to my memory of the first movie. I hated the hideous young Hellboy at the start of the film, and I hated the stereotypical angry wife role that Selma Blairs’ character plays. I was insulted by “Ze Germans!” accent despite not being German, I hate that characters change personality mid-film, I hated the sing-song scene, and I hated that THE FISH MAN NOW BREATHES AIR AND CRIES, DESPITE NOT HAVING TEAR DUCTS! HE’S A FUCKING FISH! WHAT POSSIBLE USE WOULD HE HAVE FOR TEARS GIVEN THAT HE LIVES IN THE WATER?!

I’m sorry but this is the film that turned del Toro from something of an icon into a filthy shark-jumping, fridge-nuking hack. There’s no love in this film, it’s a cynical cash-in movie that Indys the entire franchise (It’s now a verb, just go with it).

1.5 stars, and that’s only be cause the effects houses did such a good job given their tiny budget.

Exploitation and B films are a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine, there’s something thoroughly enjoyable about a film which eschews the conventional focus on plot or quality and instead puts its energy into an extreme experience for the audience. They’re like the memes of the movie world: high impact and highly replicated within certain groups, then then dispersed, diluted, and embedded as a broader cultural reference (pool’s closed rick-rollers!).

To be honest I don’t know if it’s really possible to make a classic exploitation film anymore, the world has changed enough that what we’re likely to end up with nowdays is merely self-aware, intentionally bad, faux lowbrow parody. Yes I’m looking at you Zombie Strippers. With that caveat out of the way there is a faint glimmer of hope sparking in the frigid night air. A tiny flame that, if the wind and the tinder are just right, might grow into something roaring and special. It’s called Bitch Slap.

Produced, directed, and co-written by Rick Jacobson, a veteran of B film and awful television, I have high hopes for this beauty. Take a basically unknown cast (unless you have a penchant for dubious episodic television), make a kick-arse trailer involving babes, guns, and car chases, mix them up and you’ve got something that goes straight onto my must-see list.

Trailer is here.

Sure, it’s got overacting and bad dialogue and silly costumes and embarrassing alien marriage ceremonies and Wesley Crusher, but at day’s end, I still dig me some Trek. I like the old kitschy one with Shatner’s unique brand of swagger. I like Next Gen with its weighty pretentious pondering and its weighty pretentious captain. I like Deep Space Nine with its overblown prophesying and mawkish romance. Hell, I even like the one with the holographic doctor and that insufferable Neelix guy.

The movies, though, should always have been much better than they were. I mean, I’ll watch them, but more because I really like spaceships and rayguns than the quality of the flicks themselves. Wrath of Kahn is probably the only one that stands up on its own… although I confess to a soft spot for the comedy stylings of the Star Trek Christmas Special. Oh, and that zero-G japery in Undiscovered Country was pretty rockin’.

But really, after the ponderousness of the Motionless Picture led into Ricardo Montalban’s hilariously hammy Kahn, it was all downhill. By the time the Next Gen crew took over, it was all too late – there was just no vigour left in any of it. The final film of the series features a clone of Picard, for Christ’s sake. You don’t need a PhD and a Geiger counter to work out what happened to the whitegoods there.

So, when I hear that JJ Abrams is rebooting the franchise, I say hell yeah! Or, if there are no women present, I might say “Set course for planet awesome: maximum warp!”, or possibly, “Set phasers to fun!”

Everything that’s out about this film so far is sounding pretty good. They’ve got the always solid Karl Urban to be McCoy, which is good. They’ve got that Sylar guy from Heroes to play Spock, which is perfect, because he’s the Spockiest guy you’ve ever seen with the exception of actual Spock. They’ve got some dude called Chris Pine to be Kirk – I dunno what he’s about, but I’m sure he was chosen very carefully.

Most importantly, most awesomely, they’ve got Simon Pegg as space-engineer and miracle-worker nonpareil Montgomery Scott.

St Pegg, Patron Saint of Annoying Your Girlfriend by Quoting the Whole Film, is fuckin’ Scotty. He’s gonna get to say “She cannae take much more of this, cap’n!” And he’s gonna get to beam people places. And it’s gonna take four hours to fix the thingamatron, but for Kirk, he’ll get it done in two! Yay!

I can’t wait a whole year for this!

And, on the early teaser-posters that have come out, he looks awesome and serious and ready to kick arse.

Check him out: