'Twelve Monkeys' review by Captain Raptor

'Twelve Monkeys' review by Jake Boyle

Television adaptations of movies seem to have no middle ground. They're either god-level classics like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the recent reimagining of Fargo, or lamentable works best allowed to fester in the forgotten garbage pits of entertainment history, like the series of Highlander and Planet of the Apes. The SyFy channel is about to debut it's remake of Terry Gilliam's revered Twelve Monkeys, and while I hold my reservations about the director (a man who has mastered the finer parts of film-making at the cost of neglecting the fundamentals), this seems like a good time to pass judgment on his original work. 

Crucially, Twelve Monkeys manages to keep itself fairly well grounded. Both time travel films and Terry Gilliam films have a tendency to become overly conceptual, bogged down in ethereal inventiveness - not a bad thing in and of itself, but it frequently leads to failing to engage the audience on an emotional or narrative level. Primarily this is avoided by a well-paced story that reveals information at a carefully controlled pace, its mysteries being solved not so quickly that we get information overload, but not so slowly that it's ever unintentionally confusing. The strong performances help give the film a more human side too; Bruce Willis playing a time-travelling criminal hoping to thwart the apocalypse as one of the most down-to-Earth characters of his career, showing depths of confusion and desperation. Madeline Stowe follows suit, and Brad Pitt is on hands to lend energy to the proceedings, an astounding physical performance that's frenetic and infectiously fun, if once or twice straying into cartoonishness.

It's Pitt's grandly gesturing vigor (the loopiness enhanced by nicely off-skew camera angles) that provides the film its major source of comedy, which is substantial, but nothing to boast about. Similarly good but not great, the film's plot is enjoyably twisty and turny although not altogether unpredictable at times (the meaning of Willis' hazily-remembered dream is very apparent, especially after the third or fourth time they've shown it). Gilliam's penchant for world-building is slightly curtailed, but his vision of a post-apocalyptic world is nicely realised and limiting the amount of time he spends on expansive components lets the focus remain tightly onto the story. David and Janet Peoples' script doesn't have much of a flair for dialogue, but there's a few witty lines, especially nearer the end when they're used as tension breakers. Personal investment in the characters is low, but Willis and Stowe display such vulnerability that they are at the very least sympathetic.

Twelve Monkeys is a wild ride of a story, but told very calmly and even ponderously. This allows it to be both exciting and intelligent, and the precision of the pacing gives a thoroughly engaging plot an approachable but thought-provoking slant. The acting does the excellent narrative justice, and while there is a few hitches in the dialogue and tone, they aren't problems that make any major impact on the overall quality of the film. SyFy have big boots to fill, and Gilliam's standing in my estimations has just skyrocketed. An inventive but pleasingly anchored movie. 

'Selma' review by Captain Raptor

'Selma' review by Jake Boyle

At present, it seems like Selma's near-absence from the Academy Awards might go down as one of the biggest Oscar snubs is history. Overblown and somewhat arbitrary as the ceremony may be, such furore at the exclusion certainly further piques interest in what was already an enticing prospect for a film that, really, has been a hell of a long time coming/was already adapted for the screen in 1999 but nobody's ever heard of that one.

Selma takes full advantage of the inherently present drama in its story - the institutional violence is shown in clear, unflinching brutality, but what Ava DuVernay wisely does to really intensify the impact is to immediately follow the outbursts with very slow, silent sequences, and the awfulness of what was just witnesses sinks in and can be fully appreciated. This tense but quiet atmosphere is what dominates the whole movie, showing real sophistication and an ability to provide drama beyond shocks and horrors. It permeates the acting too; David Oyelowo's exemplary performance as Martin Luther King contains as much understated silence and thoughtfulness as it does powerful orating and palpable, chill-inducing anger. There's ample support from Carmen Ejogo as a very strained Coretta Scott King, Oprah Winfrey plays Annie Lee Cooper with impressive stalwartness and Tim Roth embeds his racist governor with enough vigour to be interesting but never so much that it becomes cartoonish or detracts from the seriousness of the film. However, unsurprisingly, the film's focus on King means that Oyelowo has by far the most opportunities to amaze and to enrapture.

Most of the drama in the film comes naturally from the oppression and cruelty that abounds the events, once again heightened by DuVernay's confidently slow and contemplative pace, and from the plethora of emotions that this provokes from its principal characters. On multiple occasions, the film does depreciate its own sense of reality and nuance by talking so overtly about modern day applications of its message of progress and understanding that it's practically breaking the fourth wall, but given the political climate that this film was made and released in, it's a completely understandable decision. Occasional schmaltz is more than compensated for overall, as it still remains genuinely moving and there are glimpses of some emotional beauty here and there, in addition to all the tension that runs throughout.

As an issues movie, Selma is entirely on-point, dissecting the topic of racism with a firm precision and an unambiguous presentation of the problem. It venerates MLK without ever exaggerating, and this is one of the few biographical films that actually makes its subject feel like a real human being. As a drama in its own right, it's occasionally clunky but has guts and brains to see it through any of the minor problems it does encounter. Oyelowo's star turn is noteworthy in the extreme but the biggest salute of all belongs to DuVernay for presenting the subject matter both complexly and relaxedly. 

'Kingsman: The Secret Service' review by Captain Raptor

'Kingsman: The Secret Service' review by Jake Boyle

Kick-Ass. What a film, eh? I've extolled its many virtues on this blog on a few occasions, so I'll spare repeating myself and simply say that I think it's one of the most inventive, delirious and fantastic films of recent years, even of all time. So, when the director of that masterpiece decides to adapt another comic by Mark Millar, using one of the same actors and even bringing in that God of all things cool Samuel L Jackson, 'must-see' doesn't even begin to capture how high a priority this film was for me.

Far from simply being a tribute to old spy movies, Kingsman: The Secret Service is in many ways both an update and an improvement upon them. Sure, there's an enjoyably ostentatious villain, but one that retains the characteristic flare whilst still being nuanced in some small measurement, and his overblown evil scheme is shown in far more darkness than Connery or Moore ever witnessed. If we were to compare it to its inspirations than it's certainly infinitely more subversive and madcap than any of those. However, it's 2015; profanity, violence and sardonic self-awareness are not exactly rare commodities. While the film's commitment to over-the-top bloodiness and tongue-in-cheek references are amusing, it is by no means as daring or as different as its dialogue portends to be, repeatedly dropping out self-satisfied lines like "This isn't that kind of movie". It suffers too from the inevitable comparison to Kick-Ass, which is both a better movie in general and made several of the same jokes as Kingsman (such as violent, rapid massacres set to jaunty music) but to higher extremes, as well as making them 5 years earlier.

However, judged in their own right, the action is pleasingly visceral and the comedy mostly works; Jackson's fainthearted villain steals most of the film's best moments with his reluctance and even disgust at his own actions. It must be said, however, that with such an outlandish character paired to an actor who can be so delightfully bombastic when called upon, the results are a little disappointing and unnecessarily underplayed. The same could be said of Michael Caine's role, which only benefits from an actor of such merit on the delivery of his last line. Colin Firth, however, proves what Summer Glau, Liam Neeson and Chloe Moretz also have: namely that the greatest action stars are those who look least capable of it. Watching Firth demolish an entire room of enemies is made so much more entertaining by his perennial stiff upper lip and droll delivery. A sequence in a church that takes the most advantage of this is by far and away the best scene of the film, as sanguinary and far-out as anything from Millar and Matthew Vaughn's previous team-up.

A bit smug, a bit simple, and (most upsettingly of all, considering what was promised) a bit familiar, Kingsman: The Secret Service is not a fantastic film. It is, however, a highly satisfying one, possessing as much savviness as it does chutzpah, and an impeccable casting choice in Firth. While it doesn't really do much substandardly, it also doesn't do anything exceptionally, and for such a self-aware film, it often forgets to subvert or pastiche the clichés that it's running with. In an ideal world, this middling level of inventiveness and boldness would be average - as it is, it does remain a cut above much of the competion and certainly worth some attention

'Birdman' review by Captain Raptor

'Birdman' review by Jake Boyle

Aside from white dudes, the one thing dominating the Academy Awards this year is drums. In Whiplash, they're a central plot device. In a certain Republican's wet dream, sabre-rattling propaganda piece, the drums are metaphorical, and being banged by a deranged old man pissing over his own legacy. In Birdman, drum solos consist of 80% of the film's soundtrack, a wise move as the near constant tapping and rumbling perfectly suits the film, being in equal parts playful and unnerving. 

Birdman Or (The Unexpected Virtue Of Ignorance) is marked by innovative and fascinating directorial choices. Aside from being sleek and damn stylish, the decision to make the film appear like a single take adds a sense of urgency and heightened energy to a film that's already fairly madcap in its own right. Equal parts showbiz satire, complex character study and a meditation on the nature of art, Alejandro González Iñárritu's dark comedy is inventive in its themes and narrative as well as being pioneering in technique. Michael Keaton's ever-increasing delirium is just as terrifying as it is humorous, and the whole film's balance between tense emotion and frenzied weirdness is spot-on, each magnifying the strength of the other through juxtaposition, as well being powerful in their own right. Incorporated into the film's single-shot aesthetic is some excellent framing and close-ups that really enhance the monologues, in particular Emma Stone's visceral, fantastically delivered rant about her father's irrelevance.

While Stone definitely holds the best single moment of brilliance, it's Edward Norton and especially Keaton who really steal the show, due to their level of commitment and sheer intensity (both comic and dramatic, and with Keaton the two are mostly simultaneous) coupled with their phenomenal casting in these particular roles. The characters can pretty easily be construed as exaggerated, ridiculous versions of the actors themselves, and it's sharply funny watching the two of them tear their own image apart so brutally, alongside the rest of Hollywood (which gets its fair share of lambasting, a move which is potentially irritatingly self-aggrandizing but primarily absolutely hilarious). Most surprising is the performance given by Zach Galifianakis, showcasing hitherto ability to not only do on-point dramatic acting, but a firm grasp of nuance, in a comedic role that still manages to retain the bitterness in the film's dark heart.

Birdman Or (The Unexpected Virtue Of Ignorance) is a phenomenal film, one that makes very risky moves and consequently reaps the rewards for its bravery. Unique in its film-making approach, bold and fascinating in its narrative and dialogue, and packed with outstanding, ferocious performances, this is one of the smartest films of recent years whilst still retaining an excellent emotional depth, a fiery sense of humour and some exploratory philosophical musings about life. At times, yes, it's a little pretentious, but it has the courage of its convictions and all this subtle brilliance is just the underlying of a brave, groundbreaking and thoroughly exceptional film.

'Bridge And Tunnel' review by Captain Raptor

'Bridge And Tunnel' review by Jake Boyle

In an act of extreme (and potentially misplaced) trust, Glacier Road Productions have made their 2014 film Bridge And Tunnel free to watch this January, and are then asking for the viewer to donate however much they think the experience was worth. The film shows a year in the life of a group of young friends in a New York suburb, which isn't exactly groundbreaking but certainly gives the story plenty of options to explore. 

Those options are taken numerously. Despite the clearly defined time frame, this isn't a story with a beginning or end as such, more just a collection of scenes showing the progression of various plotlines. The audience is brought into the middle of them and most of them go unresolved. Adherence to reality runs throughout, both in the lack of sensation and closure on events, and then the general mundanity of the characters and their lives. This isn't exactly a criticism - the mature realness is quite refreshing, and investment comes easier when the situations are relatable - but there's often a struggle to imbue the events with any sense of drama or even relevance. Speaking of relevance, there's various topical references scattered throughout, and Jason Michael Brescia (the writer/director) very evidently has an axe to grind. I'm all for talking about serious issues in movies, but the way it's placed into the dialogue is so unnatural seeming and forced that when it's present, it completely pulls you out of any engrossment you were experiencing.

There are some strokes of invention. The irreverent graphics and voice-over used to advance the plot is thoroughly charming, and Wass Steven's permanently irate bartender is offbeat enough to shake things up, stealing all the film's best moments with a few fantastic monologues. The multiple plotlines allow the film to touch on many subjects, but some of them are worth more screentime than they get (a gut-punching moment of grief, a mirthsome but lightly tense scene at a fertility clinic), and others could do with being shortened or removed entirely. The scenes showing the initiations of new romances are far too familiar to entertain, and they're only elevated to any level of interest by the charisma of Mary Kate Wiles and Arjun Gupta.

Bridge And Tunnel was, on the whole, an enjoyable film but one that meanders around, occasionally stumbling. It's a nicely down-to-earth story with evidence of both heart and brains, but finds itself semi-regularly hampered by stilted dialogue, uneventfulness and a narrative that is all too often told rather than shown. A story consisting purely of a middle part does have its perks as well as the more obvious pitfalls, the humour is gentle but present, and much the same can be said for the drama. From an independent director it's a work that's not exactly promising, but certainly shows a fair amount of potential.

You can watch Bridge And Tunnel here: www.bridgeandtunnelfilm.com/watch/
You should donate if you can. 

'Into The Woods' review by Captain Raptor

'Into The Woods' review by Jake Boyle

Revisionist fairytales haven't being doing too well recently. Particularly springing to mind are the unintentionally comical Snow White And The Huntsman, the Twihard-baiting Red Riding Hood adaptation and the dire state of affairs that the Shrek franchise dissolved into. However, if anything were to buck that trend, it could quite possibly be a collaboration between some of the most prolific absconders of tradition when it comes to fairytales: enter Into The Woods. Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine's original musical sought to explore the dangerous aspects of these bedtime stories, and Disney have played so fast and loose with existing mythology that most of us think of their heavily censored Grimm stories as being the 'real' version of the tales.

It's a highly uneasy partnership, unfortunately. The film tries to retain the darkness and maturity of the source material at the same time as translating the story into a family-friendly adventure. This often leads to an uncomfortable middle ground wherein nothing of any genuine drama occurs, but the departure from familiar archetypes and feelgood simplicity will presumably alienate the children in the audience. The third act is a genuine joy that manages to be both heartfelt and impishly subversive, but the preceding hour and a half takes far too long to get us to that point. There are some flashes of quality in these earlier stages - Johnny Depp's gleefully predatory wolf, the knowingly posturing angst-off between the two less-than-charming princes - but mostly the film doesn't attempt to engage with any darkness or complexity, and it's essentially played out as a conventional fairytale, without much humour beyond pratfalls to see it through. The stroke of genius by Lapine is that later, when the story reaches the natural conclusion for a fairytale, it suddenly lurches into a moodier and tense state of affairs. This is made so much more dramatic and engrossing by the relative calmness and cheeriness of what came before, but that doesn't adequately justify the more-than-occasional lack of charm and life that came with it.

The actors all play their parts well, but nobody's performance here is exceptionally good. Meryl Streep's at the top of the pile, due to her having the most layered character to play with and her own inimitable expertise. As the hapless couple at the centre of it all, Emily Blunt and James Corden have believable chemistry and get to show abilities in their range that don't often get exhibited. On the subject of ability, Corden is a perfectly decent singer but he can't quite hold his own alongside the rest of the cast, something that becomes incredibly noticeable during his duet with angel-voiced Anna Kendrick. The costume and set design is eye-catching, but for a fantasy film that's really a basic requirement. The contrast between the initial happy section of the film and the later gloomier section is given an atmospheric enhancement by the abundance of garish colours in the former, and total absence of them in the latter. For a musical, the songs are oddly plain, although the aforementioned princely 'Agony' is an absolutely scream, and there's enjoyment to be had in Cinderella's crisis of confidence 'On The Steps Of The Palace'.

While it builds as it goes on and is quite enjoyable by the time it's finished, Into The Woods is a missed opportunity. The highlights show that there was great potential for this film, but it got lost in Disney's mollification process. Going truly dark and embracing the ruination of fairytale morality would have been the best option, but being more realistic to what the film was trying to achieve, far more attention needed to be paid to making this film clever and subversive from the offset. The excellent crescendo of an ending is worth sticking around for, but so much of the needlessly extended build-up to that is frustratingly unadventurous. 

Top Ten Films Of 2014 as chosen by Captain Raptor

Top Ten Films of 2014 as chosen by Jake Boyle

So, newcomers, the rules: only films I actually saw and reviewed (obvious, I should think) qualify, and their categorization as 'Films of 2014' is based on the date of their general release in the UK. Here's the highlights of a pretty good year, and eyes on the horizon for what treats may arrive in the coming 12 months. Without further ado: 

10. In Your Eyes - A charming, clever romcom that balances its warm familiarity with unique metaphysical oddity. The witty script is trademark Whedon, and the whole affair is supported and heightened by genuinely engaging chemistry, some nicely subtle dramatic strokes and proof that clever cinematography isn't just the plaything of the auteurs and arthouse.

9. X-Men: Days Of Future Past - The uniting of our favourite mutants old and new was almost as exciting as the monumental action that took place within. Not that it wasn't anticipated, but it was utterly fantastic witnessing Brian Singer restoring his former series to its former glory - blunt one-liners, sensational showdowns and minimal but incredibly effective use of curse words.

8. The Fault In Our Stars - There's an argument that an adaptation as loyal as this is pointless, but what's inarguable is that the end result is a masterclass in extreme emotion. Tears will come fast and furious in an exceedingly heartfelt and heartbreaking romance, and any risk of melodrama is offset by some charismatic snark in the sentiment and a grounding in Shailene Woodley's authentic exhibition of love and lamentation.

7. Edge Of Tomorrow - Well-executed sci-fi action elevated by a fantastic premise that provided as much laughter as it did interesting narrative progression. Smatterings of darkness and sarcasm added even more flavour to an invigorating alien invasion film that stimulated the brain a little and the heart rate a lot.

6. The Lego Movie - Anarchic, energetic, hyperactive delirium. Funnier that most adult comedies, this exercise in buzzing vibrancy was infectiously joyful and pure, unrestrained fun. A playground of infinite possibilities was exploited to bring 100 minutes of hilarity, madcap brilliance and inventive film-making.

5. The Wolf Of Wall Street - Every bit as frenetic and wild as The Lego Movie but with some slightly more adult themes. DiCaprio led the pack with a dynamic powerhouse performance amid a brilliantly sleazy tale told vividly and enthusiastically, packed with dark wit and acerbic humour that made a virtue of the captivating debauchery and immorality.

4. Gone Girl - An intelligent film through-and-through, from writing to camerawork to use of lighting. An exhilarating murder mystery plot that transitions into sharp, frank social satire, Fincher and Flynn managed to keep the dark suspense rolling throughout without inhibiting the playfully wicked sense of humour, that in combination with the scathing indictment of less desirable parts of our culture, brought this picture to life.

3. Nightcrawler - A truly unmatchable performance by Jake Gyllenhaal, fantastically embedding menace into the layers of his deeply unnerving character. A caustic satire of shock journalism, an incredible blackness underpinned both drama and comedy, intertwining the two to create an electric and ominous atmosphere, and the tension was so well executed that maximum reactions of horror could be drawn from neatly underplayed nastiness.

2. 12 Years A Slave - Unflinching, harrowing and deeply, deeply moving, this was definitely the year's most superlatively dramatic affair. The sheer brutality alone grabs you by the throat, but the rich emotions and the moments of tenderness map out a story that touches all bases of suffering and upset, framed perfectly by Steve McQueen's lingering shots, and by a cast pouring heart and soul into every moment of screentime.

1. Guardians Of The Galaxy - It was never in doubt. James Gunn's keen sense of style and genre awareness allowed him to create an idiosyncratic delight that amazes in all areas. An absolutely hilarious adventure that exhilarates every fibre of the viewer's being as they are whisked to each inventive, fascinating setting alongside outstanding dialogue and an irrepressible sense of amusement.  The action was bracing and helped along by absolutely marvellous concepts and set-pieces. Indefatigable charisma embodied every aspect of a film that can be described as no less than awesome, in every sense of the word.