FulltimeCasual

YouTube – (Part 1 of 9) Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones Review, from that dude that tore apart A Phantom Menace a few months ago. Worth the 90 minutes.

While I was away Anthony was updating Mactalk (almost) daily on our adventures, so if you want to read the full story go there, but if you’d like a summary of the trip, Renai Lemay has a general overview of the trip, and an excellent follow up article. We’re also in the Herald Sun!

As for the review, i crashed out some time around 8pm and woke up at 2am, but i’ve been playing with the iPad ever since. I’ve tested about 100 apps and Mac utilities to get stuff on the iPad, so I’ll post as soon as i can form sentences.

Spoiler: Fuck the iPad is Awesome.

This was always going to be a difficult review. I’ve previously mentioned my reservations about this adaptation and watching the film was aware that I ran the risk of being too harsh if it didn’t meet my pre-conceived notion of what a Max Payne film should be. With that in mind I’ll try to separate the game-specific stuff from the film itself.

Let’s start with some background. Max Payne was a first person shooter on the PC back in 2001 made by the Finnish game studio Remedy. It’s sequel was released in 2003 and surprisingly was almost as good as the original. At the time of it’s release Max Payne was pretty ground breaking, most noticeably for its gameplay elements such as bullet time, but more important was the rich noir-inspired story and arresting graphic novel design elements displayed throughout cut scenes and story sequences. It was an adult game that looked at addiction, psychosis, lust, and revenge.

The first game started with Max as a beat cop coming home to find his wife and infant daughter murdered by junkies. After burying his loved ones Max transfers to the DEA to focus on his new obsession – finding the people responsible for the murder of his family. 3 years later we come back to Max who’s now deep undercover with a local Mafia family who oversee the distribution of the drug Valkyr, the same drug the junkies were high on. The game progresses with Max being framed for the murder of a cop, and running from both the police and the Mafia as he seeks revenge before being captured or killed.

The film starts with a similar opening: Max’s family is murdered as laid out in the game, but rather than following the story-line already defined 7 years ago, we cut to scenes inside a police station where random cops provide nothing but exposition and bad one-liners. We move to a very matrix scene in a train station where Max is jumped by junkies. Instead of the highly stylised bullet time effects we expect we’re treated to a by-the-numbers face off scene highlighting what a bad-arse Max is. There’s also real push to highlight the supernatural, Norse mythology elements which begin effecting the addicts (which is more than a little out of place).

Irritation swiftly arises: Max doesn’t smoke or drink, he doesn’t narrate, and he sure as hell isn’t bat-shit crazy. The hooks we have grown to know and love about the character have been removed, leaving little more than a standard rogue cop in a story sporting thoroughly uninteresting characters. You will know who the big bad is as soon as he’s introduced, you will get a metric fuck-tonne of exposition as the movie plods along, and you will be left with the impression that nobody involved in shooting, writing, or acting in this film has played the fucking game.

Visually and stylistically (excepting some of the VFX work) the film fails too; Director John Moore doesn’t reference the stunning film noir genre that the video game managed to capture – you won’t see any Vertigo, Blue Velvet, or Singing Detective here. If anything it often looks more like a tele movie than film, just because you don’t have a pile of cash to play with doesn’t mean you need to have small ideas. Sound design is often interesting but derivative, and it’s noticeable that the production borrows heavily but artlessly from better work. There’s quite a lot of Constantine in here, a bit of The Matrix, some of the previously mentioned Seven, a fleeting attempt at some Sin City, and even a little bit of Gladiator. The screenplay is terrible (Beau Thorne, I know this was your first screenplay but by fuck I hope it’s your last) with bad dialogue and inconsistencies throughout, and most of all it’s not Max Payne in anything but name.

Still on the visual side I do need to mention SPIN, the VFX house who did the effects work on the film, and Visual Effects Supervisor Everett Burrell and VFX Producer Ken Wallace. Given the budget of the movie (around $35 Mil all up) they really did some stellar work.  The VFX sequences of the film are the only time I felt like somebody had paid attention to the game – well done guys.

We’re left with a terrible film which should never have been made, It’s tedious to watch and fails not only as an action film but also as a game adaptation.

1.5 stars.

Two directors remaking their own film for a foreign audience? Yeah winner. Nic Cage is the next Steven Seagal; an aging action star with a fetish for Asian culture and eastern philosophy making terrible films, starring himself.

So Nic is Joe – a hitman who flies to Bangkok with 4 targets to assassinate for a local gangster. Upon arriving he hires a street urchin named Kong to run errands, the intention being to dispose of Kong when Joe is finished with the killing. In a stunning twist Kong discovers Joe’s real reason for being in Thailand, and rather than turning him in asks to be trained as an assassin. Joe takes Kong under his wing and meets a local deaf-mute woman who strangely enough becomes his love interest, melting his hardened heart.

What you end up with is a really tedious and boring film: Cage simply can’t act his way out of a paper bag, and at 99 minutes the film feels like half could have been removed without effecting the story. There’s really not much that happens, far from being Bangkok Dangerous the movie is far more … Bangkok Bland.

The biggest issue with the film is that there’s nothing new here, it’s the same story we’ve seen hundreds of times before and as a result there’s simply no tension. We know how the film will play out: we know that Joe will be smitten by a local lady, we know that the wise-cracking street urchin will become Joe’s side kick (who despite being trained as an assassin doesn’t actually kill anyone), and we know that Joe will seek redemption in the final act. It’s an exercise in cliche and painting-by-numbers, really not worth your time.

Oh, and his hair is just terrible!

1.5 stars

You know sometimes I get it wrong. Every so often the movie I thought I’d thoroughly hate turns out to be something a little special; much like my experience of The Matrix – any film starring Nananu was bound to be bad and yet I left the cinema gushing excitedly to friends and lining up to watch it again. Occasionally a film comes along which despite your low expectations causes you to sit up and get swept away by its insight and cutting political acuity. Babylon A.D. proves that even in the post-apocalyptic, post-nuclear, European future a turd-burger still tastes like shit.

To be fair the director of the film did lament that Fox had cut it to ribbons, and that the story had been reduced to “pure violence and stupidity”. It’s more than obvious that this was in fact the case: there are large portions of the story which are simply missing, plot holes materialise before your eyes, and the pacing of the film jars and chatters as the locations jump and switch. The horrendous editing in itself was something of a travesty, yet shouldn’t stand alone to shoulder the blame. If anything it could almost be applauded for attempting to mask some of the oh-so-painful dialogue, poor direction, uninspired cinematography, dreadful screenplay, and below-average acting talent. That Kassovitz developed the film for 5 years and co-wrote the screenplay lands many of the problems with the film squarely at his feet. Yes, it was terribly edited but there’s a lingering suspicion that this bun may have been in the oven a little too long.

The film opens in a future war ravaged Russian slum where Czech extras make their acting debuts with almost more onscreen presence than the stars. Riddick Toorop’s entrance is accompanied by an obnoxious gangsta rap score; a wonderful musical choice for a film full of white guys, snow, white guys, Russia, and white guys. Heavy Christian themes, random parkour, unexplained fighter drones which blow up when shot by a hand gun twice, arduous and ridiculous snowmobile sequences (everyone in full exposure gear so you can’t tell who’s who – then dubbing their voices over the top), and a Coke Zero branded aeroplane … The list of aberrations is long and continues.  No Mr. Mathieu Kassovitz, stop interjecting. You made this, the fucktards at Fox who funded the project probably made it worse, but they didn’t reshoot sequences on your behalf.

I’m actually glad the rumoured 2.5 hour European release never eventuated, it meant less time invested in a painful, rushed, nonsensical film.

1 star.

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

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.