'Gladiator' review by Captain Raptor

'Gladiator' review by Jake Boyle

Fox have just released Exodus: Gods And Kings, Ridley Scott's new grand-scale, blood-brothers at war historical action-drama. The eagle-eyed among you will have noticed that this is not a review of that film. This is because it looks like trash. Glossy, fancy trash with Aaron Paul admittedly, but trash nonetheless. The buzz (or lack thereof) around the film also suggests this, so rather than risk the waste of time and money, I watched the film that filled all those same criteria, but apparently is, you know, good.

In terms of epicness, Gladiator certainly hits it target, arguably even giving Peter Jackson a run for his money (which is saying something, because he has a lot of it). The Colosseum is shot to look imposingly monolithic and the occasional long shots of landscapes are a beauty to behold. The overtly grandiose cinematography does break immersion to some degree, but it definitely does establish the ostentatious tone Scott was aiming for. This lofty atmosphere is grounded by some nicely balanced characters; despite being typically honour-bound and stoic, Russell Crowe's warrior hero is a gentle and thoughtful man who stares wistfully at passing robins and simply wishes to go home and tend to his crops. This humbleness and restraint doesn't give Crowe many opportunities to flex his acting muscles (although his regular ones are perfectly utilised) but his performance is wholly capable throughout. Joaquin Phoenix's villainous emperor is also pleasantly atypical, maintaining the necessary level of sinister whilst being wholly petulant and insecure. These are not traits easily spun into an interesting character, let alone a convincingly threatening one, but Phoenix's performance is both so nuanced and so intense that he manages to be both pitiful and intimidating. 

It's this sense of grandness offset by realism that really makes Gladiator tick - spectacular fight scenes followed by grim depictions of casualties; loud roars and frenzied movement preceding quiet scenes of tension. It allows Scott to have the best of both worlds, mixing intricacy and extravagance. However, this at times clashes with the will of the story, which wants to make Maximus as heroic as humanly possible. In order to heighten his valiance, characters make senseless decisions just so Maximus can then overcome his obstacles in a way that looks cooler and has a stronger symbolic resonance. However, the exaggeration that this leads to feels more than faintly ridiculous, especially in the film's fairly trite ending, which upsets the equilibrium of style and substance that had previously been so expertly maintained. This isn't the only issue - dialogue remains unremarkable throughout the film, it's longer than it needs to be and Hans Zimmer's score is incredibly generic - but it's certainly the most frustrating one.

For the most part, Gladiator is a highly enjoyable film that manages to deliver both action and drama in a very precise and well-conceived manner. Occasionally things tip over into the melodramatic or just plain silly, but it's never to any major detriment and the film remains exciting even when it temporarily loses its intelligence. Some strong lead performances from Crowe, Richard Harris and especially Phoenix, and highly polished set-pieces are the highlights in a good film that could have been great with a little more fine tuning. 

'Revolutionary Road' review by Captain Raptor

'Revolutionary Road' review by Jake Boyle

Revolutionary Road made excellent proof back in 2008 that you can make a film as Oscar baiting as you like, but the Academy will still totally ignore DiCaprio. While the world wasn't exactly crying out for more portraits of beautiful, well-off couples squabbling about how trapped they feel in their pretty desirable situation (director Sam Mendes having already created the epitome of this in American Beauty), the cast alone is certainly a draw.

Alright, so that might not be an entirely fair summation of the premise, but it definitely is the cast that keeps this film afloat. Kate Winslet and DiCaprio are just as strong leads as you'd expect them to be, her pleading eyes and quivering expression combating his looks of lostness and confused frustration, setting the tone well for the inevitable breaking of the dam as both actors do what they're best at - high emotion, namely unrepentant sorrow and anger. There's strong support in the form of the ever-versatile Kathryn Hahn, Kathy Bates wringing a lot of complications out of a pretty simplistic character, and an excellent Michael Shannon stealing his few scenes as walking tension, injecting needed electricity into every scene with the merest of mumbles. Both the drama and the acting of the film follow an effective pattern (but still notably a pattern) of lengthy restraint followed by outbursts of extreme frankness.

Predictability is an issue with Revolutionary Road. The obstacles that the characters encounter in their attempt to break off the 'shackles' of their suburban existence (more on that shortly) are entirely foreseeable, so there's not really any drama to be gained from them. On the whole the film's problem might be an inflated sense of importance - although the emotion delivered really packs a punch, it's not ever really unnoticeable that the character's circumstances, while obviously troubled, are not exactly as dire as portrayed. The choice of 'well-paying job or risking living out our dreams', while utterly real and complex, is not actually an especially interesting one to watch play out. There's a comment on the fraudulence of The American Dream here, but the dialogue and especially the sets are too clean-cut and flowery for any critical message to really come through. There's a lot of slow, longing shots from camera angles that heighten how lovely everything looked. It seems to be aiming for thoughtful and beautiful but more often than not it ends up coming across as somewhat self-satisfied and ponderous. It's a shame because there's evidence of potential for smarter and more intuitive storytelling present; one excellent scene has the camera focus on a silent but solemnly fuming Winslet as the other characters scream in confrontation in the background, simultaneously demonstrating a capability for raw emotion and for subtly stylistic transmission.

The acting in Revolutionary Road is sublime, so much so that it'd be worth watching for that alone, and there are moments (and occasionally whole scenes) of excellence, when the writing and direction reaches the same heights as the actors. However, it's never enough to compensate for the story's own obviousness and unimportance. A promising and still enjoyable film is let down by a failure to properly convey the darkness and genuine arguments lying at the fringes of the chosen theme.

'The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies' review by Captain Raptor

'The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies' review by Jake Boyle

Even fans of The Hobbit films (which I'm on the fence about being) generally don't contend that they're on much of a comparable level to the Lord Of The Rings. The first film has its moments throughout and there was a solid half an hour of enjoyment at the beginning of The Desolation Of Smaug but the less said about anything else the better; my apathy was such that I nearly didn't go and see this concluding chapter.

I'm glad that I did, though. On a purely visual level, The Battle Of The Five Armies is equal to (although not surpassing) the incredibly high bar set by Jackson's earlier trilogy - the special effects are so glossy and deeply-textured that they rival the beauty of the panoramic shots of the landscape. In most other areas, there's still a reasonable amount to be desired but definite improvements have been made. Most upsetting of the flaws that the film does have - above Bard's irritating children and the lifeless, hackneyed romance between Tauriel and Kili - is the briefness of the encounter with Smaug. After building tension and dropping out right before it boils over in the previous film, Smaug is promptly defeated in the time it would take a hobbit to finish an entrée. It baffles me why waging war against a dragon seems to have been considered something that needed to be got out of the way rather than indulged in, and why this was seen as a way to open this film rather than conclude the second one.

In more positive news, the titular battle is astounding. It's got the grand momentum and sense of epicness that hallmarked Lord of The Rings, but the most exciting moments are the most individual and offbeat ones - Legolas running up a collapsing bridge, Billy Connolly headbutting his enemies whilst calling them 'buggers', Thranduil (who Lee Pace plays with a bit more depth than before) charging into battle on his majestic moose. Martin Freeman is just as magnificently bewildered and contemplative as ever, and there's a noticeable step-up from Richard Artmitage, capturing Thorin's obsession with steely-eyed pathos and conviction running through every line of dialogue. The 'greed is bad' message at the core is as subtle as a troll in a china shop but it does engage the viewer; the exact same sentiment being applicable to Ryan Gage's comic relief as the slimy, cowardly Alfrid.

The way it deals with Smaug is a total disappointment, but as the film progresses it grows stronger. The Battle Of The Five Armies is a strong exit for the franchise, building upon and bettering what the other Hobbit films had to offer. It's got the stereotypical Jackson perks of being visually stunning and blisteringly exciting, but the performances and emotional tone of this film possess more feelings and naturalness than they have in past excursions. Uniquely, the running time does not feel stretched or padded, but this raises the question of whether this trilogy could have been improved by condensing it to the originally planned two films. Regardless, it's going out on a high.

Neafcy's Youtube Movie Deal Tag, by Captain Raptor

Neafcy's Youtube Movie Deal Tag, by Jake Boyle

My good friend and even better YouTuber Teddy Woolgrove (www.youtube.com/user/EdwardisnotmynamE) recently challenged me to take on the following set of questions, asked to all by another great YouTuber Neafcy (www.youtube.com/user/neafcy). This suits me very well, having not seen anything to review this week (I'll start acting like a professional when y'all start paying me).

What is the first film you remember seeing?

Much to my chagrin, it's The Phantom Menace. Not exactly the greatest start to my career as a film enthusiast, but I'm pretty sure that I enjoyed it at the time. 

Is it possible to have a favourite film and, if so, what is yours?

I'm a habitual ranker and list-maker, especially when it comes to popular culture, but even putting that aside I certainly think it's possible to have a favourite film. I don't think it's necessarily quantifiable (hence my aversion despite polite suggestion to include a numerical rating at the end of my reviews) but I find it easy to think about the impact a film has on me and how excited I feel about and deduce from my reaction to it which is my favourite - The Dark Knight. Briefly explained, I think it's a precisely-executed masterpiece that manages to exist on every level of enjoyment - able to stun you visually with beautiful cinematography and action sequences precisely made to get the heart racing without ever straying into ridiculousness, but also able to provoke thought about serious issues and give some real emotional depth to a story and setting that takes a fanciful concept and makes it as grim and intense as possible. And of course, it goes without saying that Heath Ledger's sensational, irreplaceable performance is a huge factor.

What film(s) make you cry?

Oh, Lord. Serenity, Kick-Ass, Juno, Schindler's List, The Shawshank Redemption, The Fault In Our Stars, 12 Years A Slave, The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, The Breakfast Club, Toy Story 3, The Lion King... The list goes on. I am very much a crier. Additionally, 'The Big Lebowski', but I'm assuming the question doesn't also incorporate crying with laughter.

What film would you magically like to climb inside the world of?

Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, definitely. A world were everybody is so hipster alt-cool is tempting enough for me as it is, but the inconsistency of the laws of physics and reality, coupled with an existence that seems to be equal parts anarchic excitement and generally slacking off sounds like an ideal life to me. That's the dream.

What movie characters do you wish you were more like?

Juno Macguff, aside from being the wittiest individual in history, has a self-confidence, boldness and honesty that I envy quite strongly. Captain Malcolm Reynolds has integrity and conviction that I can only dream of (plus he is a dashing, smirking, gunslinging, space-exploring big damn hero). And just to satisfy the rule of three, to a lesser extent I wish I had the inner calm and simple wisdom of The Dude (or El Duderino, if you're not into the whole brevity thing).

How have films influenced you on YouTube or elsewhere in your life?

The limit to which films have influenced my life is so large that it's inextricable from my life. Film has been important to me from a young age, and as such my sense of humour, who I made friends with and my goals and aspirations were all pretty much determined by what movies I was watching. These are pretty substantially influential factors on a developing personality, and I don't really have any conception of who I'd be if I had a different taste in films.

What film(s) do you hate and why?

There is only one film (and I hasten to use the word) that I've seen that I've found so displeasing that I would go so far to say I hate it - Disaster Movie. I've seen others that have given me comparably awful experiences in pure content (Funny People, Monsters, and My Father The Hero spring to my mind) but Disaster Movie is so uniquely depressing in its idea of what qualifies as humour and entertainment. Aside from the sheer crassness and laziness of the humour (there are so many stretches of the film where three or four minutes will be spent doing the same poor joke ad nauseum), the film attempts to make a virtue of not just insulting better films (which I would be more or less fine with, the world not moving to the beat of just one drum and all that), but inexplicably demonizing these films for attempting to be something vaguely meaningful or individual. The humour itself is bad enough (incoherent, poorly developed and poorly delivered as it is) but the attitude behind it is so smug without a single justifiable reason that it makes me want to punch something, or angrily blog about it and take it far more seriously than anybody making it presumably did.

So, there we have it folks. Hopefully next week will see a return to your usually scheduled reviewing content, but I hope this is equally entertaining and interesting to read and gives you more of an understanding of the critical perspective I write from.

'The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1' review by Captain Raptor

'The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1' review by Jake Boyle

The Hunger Games franchise was in an awkward position in the run-up to this release. There was a lot of expectations riding on it - the previous two films have grossed in excess of one and a half billion dollars, and more dauntingly, both placed highly on the Captain Raptor Top Ten Films of the Year - but the notoriously less popular third book is having to pull double its weight in viewers. Obviously people were always going to (and have) come to see Mockingjay Part 1 in droves, but a disappointing performance could limit the interest and intake of the second half next year.

Despite straying from the arena combat of the first two installments, some things have stayed the same. Jennifer Lawrence gives a consistently good performance, a bit more subdued than before but the script doesn't give her as much opportunity as it previously did. Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks and especially Josh Hutcherson remain fantastic in their supporting roles, which are unfortunately all too brief here. While this does make the moments they are present even more entertaining, it leaves us stuck with the series' most dreary characters like Gale and Prim for far longer than is desirable. The politics of revolution and dystopia are brought forth from sideline to front-and-centre this time, which has irritated some but I personally find to be a winning move. Despite the drought of action in the film, it brings the saga's real battlefield (media, politics and class struggle) into clear focus and makes this film feel the weightiest and most climactic thus far.

 Proceedings are quite dull to begin with, but after a while the tragedies caused by Donald Sutherland's glowering Machiavelli figure allow emotion and tension to surge forward. At times it's quite predictable, which for a relatively subversive blockbuster is a disappointment, and Mockingjay is certainly a little more dour than its predecessors, presumably owing to the minimal presence of Harrelson and Banks - although Effie's reintroductory scene is a thing of beauty. These are problems, but it's worth noting that these flaws are all routed in not being quite as good as it used to be. The best parts of The Hunger Games are all still very much in tact, and this time with a subtler tone and more purpose in its message.

 Mockingjay is a placeholder of sorts, but it's a highly entertaining and well executed one. Jennifer Lawrence proves yet again why the whole world's obsessed with her, and the focus on the social issues at the heart of the concept gives this film a more mature feel. There are missteps along the way and it could definitely be bolder about the message it's conveying, but the competence and confidence of the narrative and the subtext craft an engaging and exciting experience.

'Interstellar' review by Captain Raptor

'Interstellar' review by Jake Boyle

The build-up for Interstellar feels like it's taken longer than the voyage undergone by its space-faring characters. Any Christopher Nolan film is a cause for excitement, but when it's starring some of the most sought-after actors of the moment and promises to deal with space-travel in a way both scientific and cinematic, it really does become a full-blown event. And most importantly, it shows an emerging pattern of Nolan making stand-alone films titled with an increasingly long, uncommon word beginning with 'I'. I can't wait for him to start work on Immunifacient.

One of Interstellar's best features is its epicness, but it comes at a price. The film's visuals are nothing short of truly beautiful, the ideas presented and explored are fascinating and the grand existential scale of the film's events rendered me speechless. It provokes thoughts and wonderment with equal frequency and is constantly moving from imaginative, interesting point to imaginative, interesting point. Unfortunately, all this grandeur - excellent though it is - leaves little room for character, and often for emotion. Most of the characters seem to exist for purely functional reasons and there's barely any effort to flesh them out beyond this. They're all well-acted, especially by Matthew McConaughey and Mackenzie Foy, but if they weren't involved in a story of such magnitude and weightiness, there'd be no reason at all to care for them. They're as devoid of life as the Earth is imminently to be.

Interestingly, the closest that the film does come to engaging characters are a pair of blockish, featureless robots. Their artificial sense of humour and morality implanted purely out of functionality creates a conflict and complexity far more akin to humanity than any of the actual humans. The dedication to hard science is both impressive and commendable, and it is this which allows the film to make you think seriously about intergalactic travelling, humanity's role in the universe and the physics of singularities whilst still awing you with the outstanding visualisations of all things extraterrestrial. The issue of of weighing your love for those close to you against the benefit of mankind is explored in a heartfelt and intelligent manner, right up until the last 10 minutes, where Nolan seems to have opted out of genuinely addressing the matter in order to provide a temporarily uplifting but ultimately empty conclusion.

Interstellar is an enchanting and fiendishly clever foray into uncharted (or at least barely-charted) territory for cinema. Despite the appealing family drama of the opening act, there's very little interest drummed up in the characters or in the world they inhabit. This is a problem, but not an insurmountable one, and the sheer gargantuan scope of the journey is itself enough to cause investment. While a lot more ponderous and, well, scientific than a lot of mainstream science-fiction aims to be, it hits most of the same markers: beautifully rendered alien worlds, fascination in the discovery and explanation of new concepts and some dryly funny robots. All this done with added sheen, excellent pacing and intellectualism - the sky's the limit. 

'Hard Candy' review by Captain Raptor

'Hard Candy' review by Jake Boyle
Recently I had a discussion where I was attempting to discern what the most gruellingly uncomfortable scene in cinema was. The self-surgical procedure in Prometheus, the tree-molestation in Evil Dead and the climactic whipping scene in 12 Years A Slave were some of the honourable mentions, but Hard Candy blows them all out of the water several times over. The meeting between a sexual predator and a 14 year-old girl goes wrong in so many ways, just not quite the ones you'd imagine.

Hard Candy is a fantastically stark film, the majority of its runtime consisting of two actors within one house utilising slow-moving shots (which at time creates nerve-racking tension when the camera's path takes it behind furniture, obscuring any view of unfolding events), and almost no music throughout. The acting and events of the story both start out at an equally restrained pace - Patrick Wilson exhibiting a well-chosen calm demeanour (the situation is creepy enough as it is - any enhancement of that would probably just ham the whole thing up) and Ellen Page's character pretending to be the young girl who thinks she's all grown-up. As the film progresses, everybody and everything involved becomes violent, panicked and desperate, but this evolution is done gently enough that it remains oh so dark and serious. Wilson is excellent, playing confidently at the high end of every scale of emotion and never once coming off as anything less than spectacular. And there really is no other actress like Ellen Page, even at such an early juncture in her career. She goes for it both barrels and succeeds entirely, evoking sympathy despite the sheer cold-blooded terror she induces.

At this point, when things start to get twisted, the claustrophobic setting and chilling silence really highlight the total horror and grimness of the situation.  The wince-inducing scenes I made vague reference to in the introduction come in many shapes and sizes - the opening sequence when they're flirting online is creepy enough to provoke a physical reaction, equally so the tension that abounds when they end up at the guy's home for a 'photoshoot', and I won't divulge much about what happens later but it really puts the vile into violent. The utter hatred, anger and pain that runs through the latter stages of the film (especially the dialogue) is electrifying and unavoidable. That's an area where the film really excels: it's brazenness. The topics and themes at the centre of the film are delicate matters, but there's no pussy-footing around them to be found, and the uncomfortableness and awfulness of it all is confronted head-on to achieve maximum dramatic effect.

I think things are getting a mite repetitive here on Captain Raptor. Now the last three films I've reviewed have all been dark, twisted and superlative dramas that excel both in regards to technical aspects and performance. I promise I'll try and watch something different next week. In the mean time, please, go and get a copy of Hard Candy. It's a distinctively shocking film that's both smartly shot and smartly written, The two performances are absolute masterpieces and the nightmarish atmosphere of the experience is a how-to guide of creating tense excitement. An experience that's equal parts as enthralling as it is disturbing.