Unjustified

It was a mess. 

In so many ways, and for so many reasons. 

What's clear about Justice League is how hard DC and WB are trying to compensate for what's come before, not only in the tonal shift, but in the problematic story-telling and character development that has so plagued the DCEU.

BvS's Batman was an unhinged killer, so they make repeated reference to him being old, jaded and crazy.

And he makes jokes.

Superman has been conflicted, dour and boring, so now, having died and been resurrected, he's lightened up. 

And he makes jokes. 

They even shoe-horn in an excuse for why Wonder Woman dropped off the map for a century, in one of the film's many exposition dumps. 

And she makes jokes. 

By the way, SPOILER ALERT: Superman's not dead. 

...gasp. 

Well, he was (despite the end of BvS clearly showing he wasn't), but the other heroes come up with a convoluted way to bring him back (or wake him up) using the film's MacGuffin...just so the bad guy could come in and nick it to set up the third act. 

The bad guy, incidentally, is...just the bad guy. Never heard of him, and no idea what his back story is. He's basically a CGI-rendered Ronan the Accuser with less depth. 

As for the rest of the cast, given the amount they have to do with such limited screen time, they're actually rather good. 

In fact, Ezra Miller is great as Barry Allen/The Flash: genuinely funny and charming; and I will give the film credit that it manages to strike a good balance between making him a lot more powerful than The Avengers' Quicksilver, yet restricted enough by his own neuroses and inexperience to avoid being as OP as X-Men's Quicksilver. He's also afforded the most organic back-story and character development of the new-comers (though that's not saying much). 

Jason Momoa has acres of screen-presence as Aquaman, but his development is no more interesting than, "I'm a loner and don't work with others... Okay, now I work with others" and his back-story is nothing more than a brief conversation between him and some random Atlantian woman who's supposed to be Mera - his wife from the comics - but is here given no name and only two lines of dialogue (one of which weirdly suggests they may be brother and sister). 

Finally, Ray Fisher does a decent job with Cyborg's internal conflict, but his "arc" is as abrupt as Aquaman's, and as convincing as the CGI used to render him. I.e. not. 

Side note: remember early in the third act of the Avengers, when the

heroes all gather for the first time in one awesome hero-shot?

This thing tries to do the same, FIVE TIMES!

And not one of those times works.

The story is all over the place: The world is apparently sad, and has gone to shit because Superman's died, despite the world in BvS being deeply divided over whether or not his presence was a good thing. Everyone harps on about him being a symbol of hope, which doesn't remotely gel with the attitudes of his previous two outings. 

There are also weird time and location skips, suggesting WB were far more concerned with getting it under two hours than with story flow. 

For example, the climax of one battle has the heroes clinging to a thing while water rushes up, threatening to drown them. The scene then immediately cuts to them all standing on dry land talking about what they're going to do next, as if the editor just had a stroke. 

In the first act, every scene shifts without natural transition, as if they're all isolated shorts clipped together at random: now we're in Gotham; now we're in Themyscira; now London; now Iceland; now Russia...maybe...? 

Even the score is messy. Gone are the Hans Zimmer BHWAAAARMMMs, here replaced with uplifting strings that sound a little too close to The Avengers' soundtrack. The Wonder Woman theme makes a brief reappearance, as does a bar or two from Tim Burton's Batman films (not too surprising given they brought Danny Elfman on to do the score). 

The thing is, with all that said, it's actually not terrible. It's not good, but it is watchable, sporadically entertaining and a damn sight better than three of the four films that have preceded it. Afleck's still good as Batman (in fact, better here than he was in BvS (at least he now has a personality)), Gadot's still awesome as Diana, Jeremy Irons is still an interesting Alfred, and Cavil is still...well, he looks the part. 

The characters and set-pieces are mostly entertaining, the script's mostly snappy, and it mostly isn't boring. I realise that's hardly a ringing endorsement, but what's most clear about this film is that it's damage control. Man of Steel was underwhelming, Batman v Superman was crap, and Suicide Squad was only marginally better on account of taking itself slightly less seriously. Unlike The Avengers, which was Marvel's self-congratulatory fireworks display to cap-off phase one, Justice League is a desperate attempt to end on a positive note. They know they're not going to impress anyone, so they just want to round things off in a not-awful fashion, in the hope attitudes are a little more positive when (if) they finally start their phase two.

The Defenders

It's not bad.

The action's entertaining, the characters interact well, it's always good to see more of Krysten Ritter as Jessica Jones, and overall the series is far more focused than most that have come before (which is surprising given there are now 4 'heroes' to deal with).

Unfortunately, there's little to it beyond that. The story, though focused, isn't particularly interesting, Sigourney Weaver's good as the new villain, but doesn't get a lot to do, and the hole 'The Hand' thing has never really worked anyway. And the coming together of these four iconic characters doesn't raise so much as a mild tingle as two are boring, frustrating dim-wits, Daredevil's a badass, but is otherwise flat beyond a few wry lines, and only Jessica Jones is genuinely compelling, and interesting to watch outside of the fight scenes.

I am, however, given hope for the future of the franchise because they do seem to be aware of the problems of the past. It was too late to fix Iron Fist's character for this series, but at least he's called out by the others (especially the always entertaining Stick) for being a childish, entitled dip-shit. At only 8 episodes long, there's little filler beyond the first episode (which does drag, so be prepared for that initial hurdle), and it's the first of these I've been able to watch in (almost) a single sitting. They even addressed the botch job they made of Elektra - and the child-of-destiny crap that is the hallmark of the lazy writer - with a twist late into the series that I did see coming, but not in the way they did it, or the direction they then took it in.

Overall, I'd rank it 4th in the MNU:

1. Daredevil & Jessica Jones 
[JJ is by far the best written, with the most interesting and intelligent story, and compelling protagonist, but DD was more entertaining and bore the burden of both getting this whole thing started, and making up for what had come before better than I could have hoped. Plus both had awesome villains that out-do anything in even the MCU, including Loki (come at me, brah!)]

3. Daredevil season 2
[If it was just the Punisher-focused stuff, this would be alongside Jessica Jones instead of season 1, but the whole thing was brought down by the Elektra/Hand crap]

4. The Defenders
[See above]

5. Luke Cage
[Great ensemble of villains, and supporting cast, but lazy writing, good ideas that went nowhere, boring action, and a frustrating protagonist]

6. Iron Fist
[If only I could rank it lower...]

B-A-B-Y

On the surface, Baby Driver is a simple film: kid is great at driving; helps a mobster pull off heists; things go awry; kid has to use his skills to stay alive.

There's even a love-interest and an enfeebled family member to round out the cliches.

But if there's one thing Baby Driver is not, it's cliched... Well, not outside of its plot, anyway.

It could be argued the film is style over substance, but when that style is of the great Edgar Wright, I'd equate it more to a moving work of art.  Wright isn't the only director meticulous in his scene-crafting, but it's rare to see every footstep, every twitch, every gunshot, every cough of a passer-by or rev of a passing car choreographed to the exquisite soundtrack.

The script also carries Wright's innate wit, and is delivered with perfect pitch by the leads, in particular Kevin Spacey as Doc.  He and Ansel Elgort's Baby (his character, not his spawn) share a laconic deadpan, but while Baby's aloof demeanour fades as the film progresses, Doc's hold's right up until a pivotal betrayal, and even then only takes a slight hit.  And it is always juxtaposed with a sharpness clarifying him as both a scumbag, and the most intelligent and interesting guy in the room.

Though one scene is completely stolen by Doc's nephew.

Unfortunately, the rest of the characters are hit-and-miss.  John Bernthal has the look and attitude of a typical heavy, but often plays such characters with unexpected layers.  Here, he just plays a typical heavy, and is gone in two minutes.

Flea and Lanny Joon add some fun comic relief, but last barely longer than Bernthal.

But the biggest let-down was Jamie Foxx's Bats.  He's rarely anything but annoyingly aggressive, and other than a couple of scenes specifically staged to demonstrate his intelligence, otherwise behaves like a short-tempered moron, constantly putting the entire enterprise at risk on a violent whim.  Foxx does a good enough job with the character, whenever called upon to demonstrate some nuance, but those moments don't feel earned.

I personally felt an 'insightful' speech in a diner came out of nowhere,

and might as well have been a different character entirely.

The character serves a roll in the story, but is ultimately little more than a caricature.  

Contrast that with John Hamm's Buddy, who feels like the polar opposite of Bats - a lovable rogue, and cool and calm, wise old-hat - but takes a drastic turn following a failed job.  The shift in character is jarring, but nevertheless fits with how he's portrayed and what happens to him.

Eiza González also gets a surprising amount to do as Darling: lustful around Buddy, playful with the crew, borderline maternal to Baby, but cold, stoic and direct when it's time to get professional.

Lily James' Debora also gets off a little better than most, showing wit and agency, and managing to not fall into the trap of damsel-in-distress, but like Bats, there's little to the character beyond the required beats she hits in the plot.

However, the real star of the show is the action, and it's here the film shines brightly.  As mentioned, much of the film is choreographed to the soundtrack, and nowhere is this better demonstrated than in a Heat-esque shootout.  And the opening car-chase is one of the best I've seen this side of The Blues Brothers.  It is a shame that those and another mid-film car-chase are the highlights of the film, as the finale feels a bit short-changed by comparison, but it is still one hell of a ride, and very much worth the price of submission.

It's also worth noting that no CGI was used in the making of this film!

Kind of like Free Fire before it, Baby Driver is a simple, but highly entertaining passion-piece, that moves at a blistering pace, yet is as cool as a chilled beer on an extremely balmy summer's evening.

(blimey it's warm!)

Isn't it a Wonder

Wonder Woman isn't crap!

*cheering*

Better still, while given DC's run so far, not being crap is an achievement in itself, this goes the extra mile and is actually good!

Not great (as several reviews have been rating it), but while not one of its compatriots is good enough to be ranked alongside even the worst of the MCU so far, Wonder Woman sits comfortably up there with Iron Man, Thor and Doctor Strange, and is certainly better than The Incredible Hulk and The Dark World.

The cast is bang-on.  I balked at the announcement of Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman, as I'd only seen her in the Fast and Furious franchise, in which she was about as Amazonian as a willow tree:

She is now literally twice the woman she was

Hopes were raised when a mid-training pic was released, and she'd already bulked significantly, and when BvS finally rolled around, she proved to be an island of awesome in a sea of regurgitated pigswill.

And Wonder Woman shows she doesn't just shine by comparison to a dreary mound of bilge, but can carry an entire, enjoyable film, portraying strength and naivety, humour and pain, and convincingly kicking a significant amount of arse.

Chris Pine, too, shines in his sidekick/romantic interest roll, that manages to be more than you might expect from those things.  Steve Trevor has passion, wit and agency, and while the romance is a little rushed, there is chemistry between the two leads.

The supporting cast - from the residents of Themyscira to Steve's eclectic entourage - are also strong, and the whole ensemble interacts well, though as a result, it's a shame we won't get to see any of these characters again.  The DCEU could do with some likable supporting characters outside of the super-humans to flesh things out.

Unfortunately, the film is not without its (sometimes significant) issues; most of which are now staples of the DCEU.  While Wonder Woman is a lot sunnier and more colourful than previous entries, there is still overuse of a high-contrast filter that makes everything look garish, and makes any special effects scenes - whether they be using CGI or blue-screen - look amateurish.

A particular scene early on, that shows Steve Trevor bombing a weapons factory, is cringe worthy.

Speaking of special effects, it's refreshing to see CGI used so sparingly.  But when it is used, it's terrible, most notably in the climactic battle that devolves into the same muddled, phony, crappy-video-game-cut-scene mess that we suffered through in the previous two films.

The pacing is also off.  The opening 20 minutes is one long, boring exposition dump (albeit broken up by a decent battle on a beach).  The whole thing could've been done with a two-minute voice-over, interspersed with footage of Diana's training, and hints that she's not like the rest of her people.  You then have the beach battle, quick catch-up on the War, and off she goes to save the world.

That, or you spend more time on Themyscira, properly developing the characters and back-story, and showing instead of telling, rather than rushing through it like a history lecture even the teacher doesn't want to sit through.

Fortunately, once they're off the island, things pick up.  The interaction between our leads is playful, and humorously awkward, Gadot's wide-eyed, fish-out-of-water - yet smartest person in the room - routine is perfectly pitched, and there's plenty of fun to be had with Steve's secretary, Etta, played by the always brilliant, but unrecognisable (until I just looked her up on IMDB to see who it was) Lucy Davis.

One of those Oh yeah, it's her from that thing... actresses

Then it's off to war, and it's here where the film really rises up.  In the comics, Wonder Woman's origin was set during World War II, and she spent much of her time - like many super-heroes of the era - punching Nazis in the name of freedom.

The film, however, is set during World War I, where the 'bad guys' could not be so clearly defined.  This means that, not only could they show Diana's innocence being torn to shreds by the horrors of war - and it very much is in a couple of particularly effecting scenes - but also her naivety about good vs. evil, and man's capacity for both, how ever noble or well-intentioned they may be.

Things do slow down again, after a tremendous battle that stretches from No-Mans Land to an occupied village, but not for long, and not without purpose.

Alas, this being a DC film, the great cast, enjoyable characters and depth of writing can't save it from the clumsy, childish hand of Warner Bros. execs.  Now, I don't know for certain that it was they who demanded yet another CGI shit-fest for the climax, but it reeks of the same studio intervening I smell at the end of both Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad.  And as all three films have had different writing and and directing teams, it's a safe bet that these ill-thought-out, unconvincingly explosive finales are corporately mandated.

While occasionally imaginative, it's slow, distractingly fake, often difficult to follow (thank Christ we didn't see this in 3D), and has a few slow-down moments meant to emphasise some kind of inner-turmoil, or big crescendo, but evoke only an eye-roll at dragging out the tedium.

It doesn't ruin the film, by any means, and the ending does have its brave, heartfelt and well-executed moments, but it does lessen what could have been a strong, poignant climax.

Wonder Woman shows that DC still has a lot bugs in its formula it needs to iron out, but it's a confident stride in the right direction.  Let's just hope things don't regress with Justice League (at least the trailer has jokes).

Mass Effect Andromeda: Day 1

Well, technically Day 1.5, due to the trial...but then the day started with the gym, and replacing a toilet seat and shower-curtain, so...

Mass Effect: Andromeda: Day 1

The first thing that bothered me when playing the trial was why all of the these scientists were so surprised Andromeda was a little different to what they expected before they left the Milky Way.  It's almost as if these "scientists" skipped their very first physics lesson in high-school, and weren't aware that when you look at something from 2 million light years away, you see it how it was 2 million years ago.

I later happened across a piece of dialogue that supposedly explained this, but the explanation was complete bollocks, and showed the writer probably also missed said class.

And yes, as everyone has pointed out, the character models suck.  They didn't bother me so much during the trial, but the longer I play, the more issues I'm seeing.  Supporting human characters are universally bad, as is squad-mate Liam.  Corra fairs better, and my Ryder, at least, is actually quite good - certainly more naturally expressive than Shepard - though I'd assume that can depend greatly on the design you go for.

The asari are somewhat better than the humans, though still a little stiff, and the rest of the aliens also look quite good, probably by virtue of looking so non-human in the first place.

Part of the problem seems to be that they've put so much effort into avoiding the puppet-like quality of the character movement in the previous games (for some of the characters, at least), that they instead appear disjointed, and ironically even more awkward than they used to.

One thing that is a step up from the previous trilogy is the characters' heights.  While before, the krogan, for example, towered over everyone else in cut-scenes (just look at Grunt's reveal in ME2), beyond that, they were the same height as everyone else.  In Andromeda, there is genuine variety, from the diminutive Peebee, to the statuesque Vetra, to the towering Drack.

Outside the character models, the game actually looks rather good, even on a GTX 980 (hardly a wimpy GPU, but nevertheless below recommended specs).  The vistas are nice, the sky-boxes are vast, and I like the galaxy map and the new effect when whipping around it (it may get tedious after a while, but I'm good with it for now).

And despite the GPU, and being 4GB short of the recommended 16GB of RAM, graphical issues are very few and far between.

Sound balancing, unfortunately, is way off, whatever setting used.  Unless you're within two feet of a character, and facing them, they sound like they're speaking through a wall a hundred yards away.  It's not so bad in direct conversations (unless the character is walking around too much), but the little asides and overheard conversations - which played such a big part in adding atmosphere, life and depth to ME3 - are barely audible.

That said, the voice acting (when you can hear it) is great.  I can't speak for MaleRyder, but FemRyder has a vivacity and youthful wonder that's always enjoyable, and her fellow crew members are fun to talk to...mostly.

Corra is your typical stuck-up soldier character, so like Kaiden, Ashley and Jacob before her, she's the boring crew member you only talk to for the sake of covering everyone.

Liam also comes dangerously close to the same, but has a bit of goofiness to make him a little more interesting.

Drack is your standard krogan, but taken to such an extreme - in both attitude and design - he stands out comfortably against Wrex and Grunt.

Far more interesting, however - at least from a characterisation perspective - are Vetra and Peebee.

Vetra has the usual turian stoicism, but without the military obsession with authority, or hard-on for calibrations.  She does have some of Garus's snark, but with a slyness undercutting it that sets her aside.

As for Peebee: she's almost completely lacking in any asari trait.  Despite sharing Liara's archaeological giddiness, gone is the sensual grace and ethereal elegance typical of her species (Matriarch Aethyta notwithstanding).  She's far more reminiscent of Sera from Dragon Age Inquisition (minus the ADHD) than the standard asari maiden.

My biggest criticism with the characters is that, having completed my first post-tutorial planet mission, I already have all but one of my crew, and thanks to the silhouette on the crew roster, and the overly revealing marketing campaign, there's no surprise as to who - or, at least, what - that final crew member is going to be.

On the gameplay front, it's all good so far.  The return to a non-locking cover system - ala ME1 - is jarring at first, but it promotes more fluid, kinetic combat, especially when playing a vanguard.  The new tools - including a jump-jet, dash and new melee attack - take some getting used to, and it's easy to get overwhelmed early on (the game is not forgiving for newbies (especially in multiplayer)), but once you get the hang of it, it's a lot of fun, and probably the best of the series so far.

As is the levelling system.  Like the combat, it can be overwhelming, but if you've got a good idea of the type of character you want to play, there's a lot of scope in there for personalisation, especially with the addition of multiple specialisations, and the crafting system.

In some respects, crafting isn't quite as in-depth or user friendly as that of DG: Inquisition, but it's a welcome addition, as is the mining mechanic, which now incorporates the new ATV, the Nomad.

Though returning briefly to narrative issues; it's odd that technology appears to have moved on so much, despite everyone leaving the Milky Way pre-ME3, and being asleep for 600 years (they apparently don't even need Mass Relays to hop between systems any more).

Andromeda has taken a lot of heat from critics for how slapdash a lot of it is, and I can't really argue with that.  Given that this is the first Mass Effect of a new generation, we were right to expect better from Bioware, especially as - from a technical standpoint - we've already seen better from them in Dragon Age.

That said, the combat has been improved, the story is intriguing (if relying a little too much on suspension of disbelief), the multiplayer's solid (incorporating it directly into the main campaign is a nice touch) and most importantly, this does (so far) feel like a Mass Effect game.

I've still a long way to go, but for now it feels good to be back.

Budgets Large, Budgets Small, Budgets Wasted on Bugger-All

A mere two days after my last review roundup, I find myself with another five to do, but seeing as I'm only three episodes in to (the so far rather tedious) Iron Fist, and I've only completed the trial of (the so far excellent (though as ropy around the edges as its forebears)) Mass Effect: Andromeda, I'll stick with the movie options for now.

Starting with Ghost in the Shell.  

Technically, I should put this off like those other two, as I've only seen the first 13 minutes, but having seen those first 13 minutes, I have no desire to see any more.  The film got a lot of flack when first announced, not only because it was yet another doomed-to-failure Hollywood adaptation of a beloved anime, but because of the casting of Scarlet Johansson as "The Major".

Or, to give the character her full name (which, evidently, the film tries to avoid), Major Mokoto Kusanagi:

Who spends more time in Super Hero Landing pose than Marvel's entire cast combined

Granted, the character doesn't look very Japanese (purple hair aside), but this was nevertheless an opportunity to give much-needed exposure to an Asian actress in a major leading role (no pun intended), and Hollywood simply pussied out.  Similar to The Great Wall, I have seen comments from Asian commentators welcoming the casting of these big-name Hollywood actors in these roles, as they will potentially draw in the crowds and raise interest in these Asian properties, but I'm afraid it doesn't really work like that.

In terms of The Great Wall, anyone going to see it for the epic martial arts action is already sold on the genre and is left curious as to what Matt Damon has to do with any of it, and anyone going to see it for Matt Damon is confused as to why he's apparently playing Jason Bourne meets Legolass in the middle of Cirque du Soleil.

As for Ghost in the Shell, anyone going to see it because they love the anime and/or Manga, and anyone going to see it for Scar Jo in a skin-suit, are going to be put off by the simple fact it's crap.

The whole white-washing controversy is the least of its issues.  By the sweet balls of Masamune Shirow, have they missed the mark with this one!  From the hackneyed, clichéd plot - laid out in the opening two minutes by some cringe-worthy exposition -  to the garish aesthetic, to the Charlie's Angels-quality wire work, there's an amateurishness to the whole production that reeks of desperation.  And even Johansson's magnificent curves aren't enough to save it.

Also, even as someone always down on Hollywood's misguided obsession with the dead-on-arrival tech, the 3D here is particularly atrocious.

Fortunately, this 13 minutes of predictable tedium was brought to us courtesy of an advanced screening of Free Fire.  One of my favourite scenes in the tremendous Pineapple Express comes at the climax, as a bunch of cowardly, gun-shy incompetents become embroiled in an epic shoot-out.  Free Fire takes that basic idea, throws in a somewhat more diverse cast, and draws it out to an hour and a half.

And it is wonderful!

Every member of the cast is on point, with Cillian Murphy adding farcical comedy to his already-eclectic range, Armie Hammer completely shaking off The Lone Ranger as a bodyguard just close enough to being as good as he thinks he is to warrant the bravado, yet just far enough from it to make that bravado hilarious, and Brie Larson showing there's more to her than just intense, Oscar-bait drama or token monster-movie totty.

The supporting cast is equally as strong, with the rival dogs-bodies of each group playing off each other, and the rest of the cast, tremendously.

But it's Sharlto Copely who steals the show.  Having come to prominence as an out-of-his-depth bureaucrat in District 9, surprised all us 80s kids with a fantastic turn as Howling Mad Murdoch in The A-Team, then brutal heavy in Elysium, and creepy and sinister in Old Boy, his diversity shows no bounds as a slimy and skeevy used-car-salesman-come-weapons-dealer.  He's cocky, yet neurotic and cowardly; savvy, yet moronic; two-faced, yet desperate for loyalty.  He's by no means a subtle character, but he is nevertheless convincing, and utterly hilarious.

Outside of the cast, the script is as sharp as a playful Tarantino, the action is inspired in its idiocy, and bloody to the point of brutal when it needs to be, and the film moves at such a pace, its 90 minutes felt like brisk sprint next to Ghost in the Shell's 13 minute death-crawl.

Finally, there's Beauty and the Beast.  Given that this is a big-budget live-action Disney adaptation of one of the House of Mouse's most beloved animated films, it should, on the face of it, warrant a post of its own, but Disney didn't bother with a new script, so why should I bother with more writing?

This is a film that will live or die based on what its audience is looking for.  Those after a (mostly) faithful adaptation of the 90's film will be (mostly) pleased with what they get.  Whereas anyone looking for a new take on the classic fairytale, obviously haven't been watching any trailers.

All of the beloved scenes and songs are here, translated to live-action with degrees of success varying from passable, to on-a-par, to genuinely superior.  I'm somewhat baffled by the casting of Ewan McGregor as Lumière; one of the few French characters in the film portrayed with a French accent.  He's undoubtedly there for his name alone, but he doesn't do a bad job, and his rendition of Be Our Guest - the unequivocal show-piece of both versions - is among the passable.  Emma Watson - despite the trailers showing a somewhat pantomime-esque performance - is surprisingly good as Belle, and carries the film well, but the true joys of the whole production are Luke Evans as Gaston and Josh Gad as Lefou.

For starters, their takes on their respective numbers are arguably superior to the animated versions!

Evans' Gaston is everything you want him to be - arrogant, yet oblivious; cocky, yet cowardly; genuinely more intelligent than almost everyone else around him, yet nevertheless an imbecile - and his voice is superb.

Josh Gad's Lefou, however, is everything you didn't know you wanted him to be.  At first, he's a slightly more obsessive version of the animated character (and for a very specific, and much publicesed reason), but Gad gives Lefou depth and nuance hitherto unseen in such a character, and with a pay-off at once charming, funny and wholly appropriate.

The film does struggle by comparison to its predecessor - as with Be Our Guest, most of the returning songs aren't quite as strong, there's some exposition thrown in to circumvent some of the prior questions (e.g. why all the servants were also cursed), and the big ballroom scene isn't quite as grand - but where the film falls flattest is in the new it tries to bring to the table: specifically the new songs.

The first isn't so bad - a relatively sweet and inoffensive verse from Belle's father - but there are three more planted throughout the rest of the film, and each is more abysmal than the last.  Every one is a bland, sappy, vapid, meaningless excursion that drags the film to a screeching halt, and kills any pacing and atmosphere built to that point.  I understand the desire to throw something new in there to differentiate it from the 90's classic, but each effort just demonstrates how much better it could have been without them.

I can't deny it's a good adaptation, and Rhiannon - a life-long fan of the original - was mostly giddy throughout (she agreed regarding the tragedy of the new songs), but other than Evans and Gad, there wasn't enough here to justify the adaptation, and I think it will mostly make people nostalgic for the 'original'.

Sometimes at Odds, Sometimes Sympatico

As mentioned last time, I've found writing this thing a tad difficult of late, given everything that's going on in the world, and the dizzying rate the happenings are...happening...

This has included reviewing our past few cinema goings.  In the past month, we've seen Lego Batman, John Wick: Chapter 2, Logan and Kong: Skull Island.

In brief:

• Great
• Spectacular
• Tremendous
• Terrible

Those first three are very much in-keeping with the general consensus among critics and audiences alike.  Much like The Lego Movie, The Lego Batman Movie surprised everyone by being more than just an extended toy advert: witty, inventive, exciting, layered and offering a brand new spin on well-established - sometimes long-tired - characters, ideas and themes (their take on the Joker, and his relationship with Batman, is beautiful).

John Wick Chapter 2 was far less of a surprise, given the quality of its forebear, but there is always the risk of sequelitis, and it can't be denied it did suffer slightly in that regard.  But this is not sequelitis in the usual respect of either trying too hard to outdo the original (Mummy Returns; Independence Day Resurgence) or lazily cashing in (The Lost World: Jurassic Park; RED 2; Independence Day Resurgence).  The one and only issue with Chapter 2 was the very fact that it was't a surprise.  John Wick came out of nowhere, and it was joyous.  Chapter 2 lacked that sense of wonder, but was, nevertheless, spectacular.

Logan too wasn't much of a surprise, but given the diminished-with-time quality of much of the X-Men franchise, there was no guarantee the promise of those beautiful trailers was going to pay off with anything more than The Wolverine with a bit more blood and bad language.  Fortunately, not only were the shackles of the dreaded PG-13 / 12A certificate removed (though, paradoxically, the sheer volume of 'fucks' early on came across as adolescent), but also any forced franchise ties.  While references are made to characters and incidents that have come before, Logan stands very much on its own, creating its own continuity, and playing out more like a western than a super-hero movie.

In fact, as one review pointed out, while this is by some distance the best film to come out of the X-Men franchise, it is not the best X-Men film (that would be First Class).  Logan isn't about the X-Men.  It isn't even about mutants.  It's about an old man looking to escape a troubled past, but being forced to face up to it and find redemption in the form of protecting a (admittedly not exactly helpless) young girl.

A young girl, by the way - and I realise I'm digressing quite substantially at this point, but now that I've started writing about this film and its cast, I just want to gush - who should not be overlooked for a Best Supporting Actress nom next year.  My word, Dafne Keen was awesome!  Charged with being eerily stoic, feral, savage, innocent, athletic and bi-lingual, while carrying some heavy emotional scenes, all of which she steals from her co-stars, despite them all bringing their A-game: Hugh Jackman's Logan is broken, world-weary, and physically and emotionally vulnerable; Patrick Stewart's Xavier is weak and tired, haunted by tragedies he barely remembers, losing his grip on himself and reality, yet consistently funny, and as fatherly as he ever was; Stephen Merchant's Caliban is a tragic, sarky sage, persistently holding Logan to task - and all of them are struggling to come to terms with their past sins.

Even Boyd Holbrook's Pierce, who could have easily been just another henchman, has enough personality to entertain whenever he's on screen.

But it's the 11 year-old Keen who owns the screen whenever she's on it.

All three of these films have enjoyed varying degrees of universal praise, as has - to my slight surprise - Skull Island.

I expected to love Skull Island.  I'm a sucker for a creature feature, regardless of the quality, and will even admit to being a fan of Cloverfield, Roland Emmerich's Godzilla and Peter Jackson's King Kong (the more recent Godzilla had a spectacular climax, but was otherwise a tedious slog of dull human characters, and frustrating teases of monster-on-monster action).  I'm not saying these films are good, necessarily, but I found each of them entertaining in their own way.

And every critic I follow appears to have a similar opinion of Skull Island.  Yes it's silly, yes the characters are a bunch of 2-dimensional archetypes, and yes, the plot's thinner than American beer in a cheap pub, but when 75% of the film is monsters eating people, then being stomped by a giant monkey, who cares?

Well, for some unfathomable reason, I do.  Maybe it was because I expected more - possibly too much - of a new King Kong, made with new technology, and featuring the likes of Tom Hiddleston, Samuel L. Jackson and John Goodman, or maybe it was just a little too slick, lacking the goofiness of earlier creature features that helped audiences look passed the flaws.

Whatever the reason, I had this unshakable sense of detachment throughout.  It all starts promisingly enough, with Goodman's obsessive scientist desperate for government backing, the introduction of Hiddleston as a grizzled badass, and a disheartened Jackson leading an eclectic army unit coming to the end of its tour in Vietnam.  Even Brie Larsson's plucky journalist has some intriguing savvy about her.

In fact - and completely at odds with the usual nature of the genre - all was going well, right up until the monkey showed up.  While I appreciate the lack of fumbling about with character development before getting to the good stuff, and Kong's unexpectedly blunt reveal and subsequent battle is fantastic, once the players are on the titular island, the characters are immediately reduced to type, and become background noise between the fights.

The biggest criticism levied at Peter Jackson's King Kong was it was far too slow, but while I can appreciate that - and can't deny it had some pacing issues - I was personally drawn in by the 1920s setting, Jackson's heart-on-his-sleeve style, and the eclectic cast of characters.  Plus, the extended edition featured a lot more monsters-eating-extras goodness in the build-up (and no extended anything else).

John C. Reilly does show up in Skull Island as the one interesting character amidst the post-monkey blandness, and Hiddleston does get a damn fine set-piece against a bunch of mini pterodactyl thingies, but every set-piece comes so thick and fast, interspersed with standard action-shots of the cast posing against the carnage, that it wound up feeling more like an overblown music video than an epic action film.

It was the exact opposite of Gareth Edwards' Godzilla: while that was trying too hard for emotional depth, tense pacing and thought-provoking plot - failing at all three and boring us silly in the process - Skull Island abandoned all that after 10 minutes for a few rounds of King of Monsters without the interactivity.

I wouldn't say Skull Island was as bad Independence Day Regurgitation, and I can't deny there was a lot that I should have loved about it - and plenty of others did love about it - but I just couldn't suspend my disbelief far enough to enjoy any of it.

That's no Mufasa

For me, one of the most surprising things about Rogue One: A Star Wars Story - which fills the gap between Episodes III and IV - is that there is so much to spoil, so I will say right off the bat that there will be none of those shenanigans going on here (those who spoil should have their fingers removed and mouths sewn shut).

Another big surprise was how both like and unlike Star Wars it felt.  There's no bombastic John Williams opener, no scrolling text, and barely a Jedi in sight.  This is not a hero's journey from simple every-man ignorant of his destiny, to kick-arse battle-mage saving the galaxy: it's a far more intimate tale about a plucky band of rebels coming together and risking it all for what they know is right.

And, sweet salivating monkey-nuts, does that allow it to bring the feels.

Star Wars has always had its moments in that regard, but because everything's so big, and the characters, while not simply 2-dimensional caricatures (in IV-VII at least), are nevertheless broad (gung-ho rogue; boisterous princess; farm-boy with a dream and a destiny), it's difficult to relate to everything on a personal level.

In Rogue One, the characters feel more grounded; more real.  When they laugh and cry and throw a tantrum, it has significance because the reasons for those reactions are often personal to the characters, rather than funny thing was said so everyone laughs, or bad thing happens so everyone cries.

Even the main bad-guy has nuance. Not that he ever waivers in his convictions, but unlike Tarkin or Palpatine, he does show fear and uncertainty - even desperation - as well as an arrogant wit.

Paradoxically, however, the main issues I have with the film also stem from the characters.  This being a stand-alone with an ensemble cast of newbies to the series, certain things feel rushed or underdeveloped.  Why was that person a prisoner?  How did these two meet?  Why's he such a mess?  Every one has a history that is only hinted at, and it makes me wish that, rather than a single film, the studio had followed through on that long-promised live-action TV show, with this as the template.

Fortunately, the performances are strong enough that, even without their histories being fleshed out, the characters are still well-rounded and interesting; the stand-outs being Alan Tudyk's K-2 - a hilariously sociopathic droid - and Donnie Yen's Chirrut Îmwe - an admittedly clichéd, but still awesome wise old blind badass, with a lighthearted humour I wouldn't have expected from the usually stoic Yen.

If there's one weakness - and I can't believe I'm saying this - it's James Earl Jones.  It's no secret that Darth Vader makes an appearance, but the appearance he makes is...weird.  The voice sounds like an impersonator trying too hard, the suit looks ill-fitting - as if made by a cosplayer in a hurry - and the physical performance is far too fluid, lacking David Prowse's almost robotic steadiness and menace.  Even the CGI face-mapping of certain characters is more convincing.

And he makes a pun!  What in the name of holy smegma is Darth Vader doing making a pun?! 

He does get a little redemption later on, but his main scene is an awkward one that simply does not work.

Of course, this being a Star Wars film, we're not just here for strong characters in a great story, and when it comes to outer space shooty epicness and Storm Troopers being used as cross-eyed cannon-fodder, Rogue One delivers in spades, with a particular moment with a pair of Star Destroyers being up there among the entire saga's all-time greats.  Gareth Edwards may have bored us all gormless with Godzilla, but he did at least prove that he could do grand-scale action when (finally) called upon to do so, and that eye for the epic set-piece is exercised with aplomb against the backdrop of space.

Quick side note: due to issues with Cineworld's projector, I got to see this

in IMAX 2D, which was awesome!

In terms of where the film as a whole stands within the Star Wars ranks, I find that difficult to gauge.  As I said, this is a different type of film to the main saga, and it's fitting that it's titled A Star Wars Story rather than Star Wars episode III.V.  And I also hesitate to rank it along side Empire Strikes Back as others have done, as I don't see this achieving that level of classic status; nor did it enjoy so many iconic, unforgettable moments.  That said, it is certainly on a par with The Force Awakens in terms being both new and feeling like a strong continuation of the saga.  It too outshines the prequels on every level (including its continuity), and would make a fitting start to any Star Wars marathon.

**UPDATE**

I follow a lot of reviewers with diverse opinions, and no film has shown that more than Rogue One; and in a surprising way. Those I'd expect to love it were underwhelmed (one downright devastated), and others I'd expect to be more critical have actually found far more to love.

Because of the way this film is put together, and its story is told, it lives and dies by its characters: those who were put off by the thinness of their backstories, or found them dull or one-note, seem to have been bored by the film as a whole, while others (like me) who could look past the admittedly thin back-stories, and could engage with the characters through the actors' performances (which I personally found universally fantastic (Donnie Yen especially)) loved the film, sometime to a near-Empire-Strikes-Back degree.

The opening act is rushed, every character could have done with more fleshing out (I still feel like this would have made a better mini-series than a film), and that first Darth Vader scene was terrible, but I love the cast, I love the story, the action was phenomenal and the climax had me physically shaking.

Doctor Standard

Another year, another Marvel origin movie.

And, I'm sorry to say, the old formula is showing its age: here's a snippet of your bad-guys; this is your good-guy with a lot to learn (boy-oh-boy, isn't he arrogant); here's his perfunctory love-interest; Look, Avengers Tower!  Eegads, drama!  Journey starts here, folks!  Ooh, this one's about this stuff... Training.  Struggle.  Conflict.  He's catching on... Midway fight!  Now he has purpose.  Now he's a badass!  Climax!  Ooh, sequel bait.

This being Avengers XIV: Quick, We Need Something New to Show! it's hardly surprising the strain is beginning to show  Even with the introduction of magic and the multi-verse, we're given the same old beats; the same old leaning toward style over substance; the same old stock characters for our hero to bounce dialogue off of.  And what's frustrating is they've already found new ways of tackling the origin story.  Guardians of the Galaxy got away with it through humour, a brand new setting, and being about a team rather than a singular hero.  And despite being about a team, the writing and performances were strong enough to convey the background and character of every player.  Even Ronan the Accuser - typical flash-in-the-pan bad-guy that he was - benefited from a memorable design and performance, and having his stoicism contrasted against the 'hero's' general silliness.

Ant-Man too, though it followed the more established formula, managed to stand out by being on a much smaller, more intimate scale.

Unfortunately, Doctor Strange feels a lot like a return to the old.  Mads Mikkelsen does what he can with the villain, but we see so little of him, he joins Yellowjacket, Iron-Monger and Malekith (remember him?) in the category of, 'Well, they were knida interesting... Moving on.'

Similarly, Rachel McAdams gets to be little more than space-filler.  There's chemistry; he rejects her; he needs her; they reconcile; she's gone.  They do change things up slightly by not quite having the two get together (as if to say 'See, she's not really a love-interest! Aren't we original?'), but you could still replace her with Jane Foster and not notice the difference.

The action is also disappointing.  Not that it's not imaginative and well executed, but it's shot so poorly.  Scott Derrickson seems to have come from the same school of action directing as Paul Greengrass and the Russo brothers, thinking shoving the camera in an actor's ear and swishing it from side to side makes for an immersive set-piece, rather than a confusing blur of colourful nonsense.  And it isn't helped by an over-reliance on CGI sets and models.  Okay, when you're doing the Inception building-folding thing with an entire city, practical effects aren't really an option, but having a pair of actors brawl in an actually-rotating corridor was still far more impressive-looking than some green-screen wire-work and bandy-armed character models.

It also doesn't help that the action peaked with a mid-film confrontation, while the climactic fight was a much more brief, small-scale and uninteresting affair (and aesthetically reminiscent of Suicide Squad).

And though the final final face-off was a genuinely cool idea, the design of Dormammu, who should look something like this...

...was pants.

All that said, however, it's still good.

It's an almost frustrating trend with Marvel that even their somewhat throw-away films have plenty about them to enjoy, whether it be the action of Incredible Hulk or Iron-Man 2, or the character interaction and universe development of Thor: The Dark World.  Even Age of Ultron, despite more-or-less being a retread of The Avengers, was packed with enough awesome that it didn't matter.

Doctor Strange, despite being part of the MCU, could probably be most closely compared to Green Lantern in terms of structure and unoriginality.  But while Green Lantern lacked any semblance of effort, depth or excitement, Doctor Strange is what happens when you do all that same stuff (for the most part) well.  The cast are invested, the action (what we can see of it) is imaginative and the writing's sharp.

As a rich, arrogant, goatee-wearing genius at the pinnacle of his field, it would be easy to shrug Stephen Strange off as a Tony Stark clone, but the similarities are superficial at worst, and Benedict Cumberbatch covers the journey from top-of-his-game to despair, to out-of-his-depth, to getting-the-hang-of-things comfortably, while also delivering on the humour and action.  If there's one chink in his armour it's the accent.  Hugh Laurie's in House may have taken some getting used, but at least it was consistent, and I otherwise can't think of a single example of an English actor struggling with an American accent.  Cumberbatch's goes from passable to jarring, and even his weapons-grade cheek-bones couldn't distract from it.

As mentioned, Mikkelsen and McAdams are given very little to do, but they do it well, with both given a solid minute-and-a-half each to show some emotional depth, and even a couple of comedic moments.

Chiwetel Ejiofor is also a little short-changed, but he brings gravitas to what could have been a token side-kick, and offers just enough to hint at Mordo's inevitable (if you've read the comics) arc.

The biggest surprise for me was Tilda Swinton.  Obviously she gives a good performance - she's one of those actors who apparently can't do otherwise - but I was among those who cried foul at the casting of a white actor as an Asian character.  I'm not going to go into the whole white-washing debate here - Hollywood has a problem and it knows it does - but given the already lacking diversity among its heroes, this felt like a missed opportunity for Marvel to (at least in part) redress the balance.  However, in a film so lacking in originality, there was something refreshing in the wise old sage being a (more or less) quite ordinary white English woman.  It would have been easy to make the character the typical Dali Lama knock-off - all wisdom and enlightenment, with a touch of wise old wit - but instead The Ancient One is flawed, uncertain, occasionally vulnerable, and is shown to be mostly just doing their best.  That's not to say the character shows all that because she's a woman, or that an older male or female Asian actor couldn't have portrayed all those things, but the character's gender and ethnicity helped subvert expectations and add something new.  On top of that, Swinton is also given the opportunity to do a bit of arse-kicking, and managed that with aplomb.

I still feel they could've found a happy middle-ground by casting an Asian actress, but it wasn't as embarrassingly tenuous as I expected it to be.

Still, strong as the rest of the cast is, no-one steals a scene quite like Strange's cape - it reminded me of Carpet from Aladdin -  and if there isn't at least one shot of it flirting with Thor's cape when the two inevitably meet, I'll be disappointed.

So, in summary, it's all business as usual for another MCU origin: strong cast playing mostly filler characters, a strong hero, strong action, and some interesting universe building.

Hitman Anders and the Meaning of Joy

I had never heard of Jonas Jonasson until a friend happened to mention how much she'd enjoyed The Hundred Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared.

Frankly, with a title like that, she could have said the thing was awful, unreadable, Twilight-esque trash, and I'd still have been compelled to read it.  As it turned out, it was a stunning, hilarious, life-affirming, decade and continent-spanning dual adventure that had me grinning from ear-to-ear from page-to-page.

That was followed by The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden: another decade and continent-spanning romp, though not quite as extensive in either regard as its predecessor.

Though the two stories were very different, they did have two very important things in common: exceptional, breezy writing, and fascinating central and supporting characters it was a joy to spend four-hundred-ish pages with.

So now we get Hitman Anders and the Meaning of it All.

As testament to Jonasson's breezy style, the opening chapter gives us the full life-story (including family history) of our first protagonist; a receptionist lumbered through circumstance with the somewhat silly name of Per Persson - "...not that it's impossible to be named Per Persson or, for that matter, Jonas Jonasson, but some might find it monotonous" - and a brief summary of the life and misfortunes of our titular Hitman, Johan Andersson.  As double biographies go, they're concise, to say the least.

Chapter two brings us protagonist three in the form of Johanna Kjellander, a disgruntled former parish priest, and the unlikely criminal mastermind behind the group's underhanded endeavours.  Conniving, imaginative, quick-witted and vindictive, the priest is easily the most fascinating and enjoyable of the trio - with the Hitman a simple foil, and the receptionist an out-of-his-depth sidekick for the bulk of the story - but this is nevertheless an ensemble piece: the very traits that make the priest the stand-out, and most proactive character of the group are also what make her incapable of coping on her own.

For me, it is the weakest of the three, owing mostly to a third act that grinds the action to a halt, before rushing somewhat unexpectedly to its ending.  But overall, as with Jonasson's previous novels, Hitman... is a briskly-paced, occasionally bizarre, often hilarious story, with unusually intelligent, though morally questionable protagonists, somewhat less intelligent, bungling antagonists, death, mayhem, oblivious authorities, lashings of karma, and an oddly recurring theme of a briefcase (or two) full of cash.

Most importantly, it kept me smiling throughout.

First Impressions

Last night I finally got around to watching this...


...and it was awesome.  Fast, funny, fearless, and staggering performances from not only Dicaprio as Jordan Belfort (seriously, Academy, you must've been sampling some of the substances on display to have chosen McConaughey over him), but from the entire cast.  Jona Hill, in particular, was a revelation!

I immediately gave it 5 stars on Netflix.

This morning, however, I found myself questioning if it really was that good.

The performances I still cannot fault - there wasn't a single weak link, with almost the entirety of the main cast being asked to play comedy, tragedy, quiet drama and balls-to-the-wall outlandishness at the drop of a hat - but the more I thought about it, the more holes I found elsewhere.

For a start, it's predictable.  As outlandish as the characters behave from scene to scene, the plot is so by-the-numbers you can chart it from the most generic of generic synopses: It's a decadent rags-to-riches, rise-and-fall story.  Scarface, Wall Street, Goodfellas; if you've seen any of them (or a hundred others) you know exactly how it goes.

Then there's the timeline: We're given musical cues throughout to represent the period, but the timing often suggests we've been in this particular year for some unknown time.

There's also little character closure beyond Belfort.  Yes, it's his story (and a 'true' one, so any extraneous info is, presumably, out there somewhere), but I was still left questioning what happened to the supporting characters: How did they deal with the crash of '87?  What happened to her?  What happened to him? Who was charged, what with and what punishment was dished out?

Even an Animal House-style blurb ahead of the closing credits would've been welcomed: "Rugrat was indicted on 600 charges of market manipulation, 300 charges of substance abuse and 1 charge of fraudulent hair.  He served 4 years as a McDonald's scrubber, before being promoted to fries and dying of a salt overdose."

But here's the thing: Should I judge the film on my immediate reaction, or mark it down because of the problems I've thought of after the fact?  Is my initial enjoyment more important than analytical hindsight?

Looking at it from the other side, when I first saw The Dark Knight Rises, I was underwhelmed.  No, it was never going to live up to The Dark Knight, but it was more than that: the film felt bloated and ponderous, the plot was silly, the tone was a mess and the ending as crap.

However, I did enjoy it a lot more the second time around.  Already being aware of the issues, I was able to ignore them and enjoy the spectacle: the airborne heist; the bat-pod chase; Hathaway's Catwoman; the climactic battle; Hathaway's Catwoman...

Did any of that make it a better film?  I'm inclined to say no, because all of that was there before, but was undermined by its issues.

So does noticing Wolf of Wall Street's issues after the fact make it a worse film?  That, I find more difficult to answer.  On the one hand, those issues were already there, but I didn't notice because of how much I was enjoying the rest.  If anything, this elevates the quality of what did work.  On the other hand, when those issues do come to mind, it means that enjoyment can be lessened over time, reducing its lasting appeal.

Maybe it's more of a scale thing.  I thoroughly enjoyed Die Another Day when I first saw it; now I see it as a depressing piece of shit.  I didn't get The Life Aquatic when I first saw it; now I adore it!

You see, none of this is to say I now consider Wolf of Wall Street to be a bad film - issues or not, it's a tremendous and highly entertaining piece of work - it's just that it did get me thinking about how I judge films.

Civil War

When it was first announced that the Russo Brothers were being handed Avengers: Infinity War, I was a tad worried. Yes, Winter Soldier was awesome - one of the best Marvel films up to that point - but their inability to frame an action scene and KEEP THE SMEGGING CAMERA STILL put them in my bad books, and I envisaged big, explosive, overblown action scenes with Transformers level clarity. 

Civil War has put those fears to rest (and not just because they apparently bought each other steady-cams for Christmas). 

Every character is as well-played as they've always been. After 12 of these things, that's hardly surprising - I think RDJ's been playing Iron Man about as long as June Brown was Dot Cotton - but the level of performance extends to the recent additions. Paul Rudd is having as much fun playing Ant Man as his character is meeting Steve Rogers, Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Betany have more chemistry after 2 minutes on screen together than Ed Norton and Liv Tyler manager through the entirety of Incredible Hulk (did you even remember they were in that?), I cannot wait for the Black Panther film, and Tom Holland as Peter Parker/Spider-Man... 

Sam Raimi directed 3 Spider-Man films: one good, one great and...another one. Marc Webb directed 2 Spider-Man films, and we're all trying to forget (especially Sony). The Russo Brothers directed 5 Spider-Man minutes and I'd take watching them on a two-hour loop over watching four out of five of the previous films. 

But, for me, the most notable thing about Civil War is that it clocks in at just under two and a half hours; about the same length as Batman v Superman. The difference is that, while the plot is by no means simple - featuring twists and turns and characters old and new with shifting loyalties and complex motivations and a core moral dilemma that is in no way easy to reconcile - there was no point in Civil War where I thought, 'Wait, why's he doing that? That's stoopid!' 

As Mark Kermode said: "It's film you're meant to enjoy rather than endure." 

It makes sense, moves at a well-measured pace, features some of the best action of the entire series so far, and manages to be deep and meaningful without sacrificing fun.