Ghost In The Shell: Blu Ray Review

Ghost In The Shell: Blu Ray Review

There's an irony that 2017 yields a shiny, yet empty and hollow, new version of Ghost In the Shell, all wrapped up in FX and Weta's wizardry, and coming nearly 30 years after the first iteration of the Manga series appeared.

Along with the campaign against the film over its apparent white-washing of its lead, the Asian Major, and a meme meltdown that seized on the film's apparent ignoring of any potential Asian leads, there's already enough for Ghost In The Shell to achieve.

So, it's perhaps frustrating to report that the 2017 version of Ghost In The Shell is pretty hollow, and feels like a missed opportunity, a series of shooter / fighting sequences all wrapped up in some damn near incredible visual and practical work from WETA.

Johansson stars as Major, who's part of an elite group called Section 9, who hunts down terrorists at the government's behest in a futuristic world. But Major is more than just the star operative of this ragtag group, headed up by Beat Takeshi Kitano's Chief. In a world where cybernetic enhancements are becoming the norm, Major's a perfect meshing of a human brain in a robotic body - a precedent for the future.

However, while Major's fairly adept at taking out the bad guys, she begins to experience glitches in her daily life, giving her frightening flashes of a life before... and causing her to question her own identity and loyalties, just as a new terrorist threat emerges...

To be fair to Ghost In The Shell, the themes tackled within are not exactly new and the trope of questioning self and identity are ones which are endemic to most of the genre's films that feature a robot protagonist. (Ridley Scott's Blade Runner being perhaps the chief example of such a film and TV's Westworld being the latest version of the nature of consciousness discussions).

Yet, despite its shiny paint and exquisite visuals for 2017, the new version is very much lacking in anything other than a simple cyberpunk ethos and a videogame aesthetic and narrative. This is not an adaptation of an anime that comes anywhere near close to hitting some of the rich resonance and emotional themes of the originals.

Relatively soulless, and without too many real philosophical edges for the audience to grapple with, this Ghost In The Shell simply chooses to throw out the more thoughtful elements of the series before it, in favour of yet another (admittedly well) choreographed action sequence. It's no Joss Whedon's Dollhouse, that's for sure.

Despite some truly impressive neon-soaked Blade Runner and video game Remember Me-esque cityscape visuals to make up the world, what sits within is, unfortunately, a little less well realised.

While the Geisha-bots that become like scuttling spider-bots are early indications of the visual mastery of Weta's work, their memory soon fades in light of some well-worn familiar style sci-fi dialogue and bullets flying as the emotionally detached film plays out.

Johansson pretty much dials down the emotion and comes off a little like a second-rate action version of her character from Luc Beeson's much-overlooked flick Lucy. She brings some edges to some of the emotional conflict that arises from within, but she never quite fully sells the struggle with her past.  And Snow White and The Huntsman director Sanders reaches Michael Bay levels of fetishization of Johansson's form within the suit and when she's lying on a bed as he brings the story-boards to life...

(And it has to be said, unfortunately, that some of the white-washer naysayers have a point, particularly when Major's past is addressed towards the film's denouement. There's also a whole debate over the rest of the casting of the film as well, with many of the Asians represented on screen playing more sub-serviant roles than anything substantially meaty.)

Pilou Asbaek's second-in-command is a thankless role that ploughs the action into the brawn and little else; Kitano's support is equally solid as well, but he's relegated to the sage overlord dispatching ideas and checking up on his team, rather than anything more. Elsewhere, Juliette Binoche brings the humanity in her doctor, but again, it's scant anything other than brief broad brush strokes to satisfy the most brain-dead of audience members.

It helps little that Ghost In The Shell's emotional edges are lacking and the pay-offs not as spectacular as the stakes in the final act. It's something that's little supported in the film's scripting and filters through the entire film; and while the action sequences are dispatched tautly and effectively, they're all emotionless, formulaic sequences that barely stay in the memory long after the conclusion of the film.

Ultimately, Ghost In The Shell's extraordinary visuals shine way above anything else on the screen.
It's a clear case of style over substance, which is no bad thing given the level of detail spent on them. 
Referencing The Matrix, Blade Runner and many Arthur C Clarke tropes, the film's eye-wateringly gorgeous FX and confidently realised world crackle where the rest of the film unfortunately does not.

In the final wash, Ghost In The Shell's weaker narrative, combined with its sidelining of the more interesting philosophical debates and the story of identity of its main protagonist, sadly stop it from becoming a true sci-fi classic, leaving it floundering as a hollow and shallow video-game lite experience that's more about what's on screen than what lies beneath.

My Life as a Courgette: NZIFF Review

My Life as a Courgette: NZIFF Review

Blessed with both poignancy and occasional humour,Claude Barras’s layered stop-motion drama My Life As A Zucchini is the sadly, nuanced and yet optimistic animated treat that you'd expect from the festival.

It's the story of Icare, or Courgette, as he'd rather be known. Living in his attic and collecting his bitter single mother's beer cans, tragedy befalls Courgette and he's sent to the local orphanage.

Befriended by the local policeman Raymond, Courgette tries to fit in with the other kids there. But it's not until the arrival of Camille that he starts to come to life.

Bathed in tragedy and with more darkness than you'd expect (murder suicide, abandonment, jailed parents, refugees, neglect) the gorgeously animated claymation film is a bittersweet treat.

There's an underlying sadness running through its veins that makes My Life As A Courgette the story of an orphan that has more in it than Oliver.

Odd lines here and there offer more than hints of the uncertain life faced by the older orphans (one opines that no one looks at the older children) and the hope they all have each time someone visits - it's heartbreaking stuff writ large on a wider canvas and yet, for family viewing, it's a sign that not every animation is rosy.

And yet in among the darkness, there's a playfulness at work too with the happier moments feeling like small victories in the day-to-day loneliness. Plus, it helps that Barras has made sure the adults in charge at the orphanage are actually normal, rather than the usual caricatures of nastiness.

There are plenty of adult touches and less rose-tinted glasses throughout, but the film never loses sight of the fact it's there to entertain as well.

A detour to the snow brings joy and frivolity to proceedings, and the sense of camaraderie is evident. With a luscious colour palette, the film looks great and yet also different with hues and animation feeling a little different from the norm.

Ultimately, My Life As A Courgette is a Euro treat that hints at much more adult and tragedy than you'd expect. But it does it in a way that never rams home the message but delivers it in the most powerful way it could.

No Ordinary Sheila: NZIFF Review

No Ordinary Sheila: NZIFF Review

The name Sheila Natusch will be familiar to anyone who loves nature and anyone who's from the lower reaches of the South Island.

Director Hugh MacDonald's gentle film biography takes in the life of Sheila Natusch, with better access than most given he's part of her family.

Starting off in Stewart Island where Natusch was born (nee Trail), MacDonald uses a Kim Hill Radio New Zealand interview with Natusch herself to help paint a lot of the scene, as well as Sheila's own writings. From growing up with a fascination for the wildlife and a strict father to Natusch's friendship with Janet Frame after they bonded at teacher's college, the depth on display here is fairly exhaustive, even if MacDonald knows which bits are best excised.

Using some stunning wildlife footage and shots from around Stewart Island itself, (a nice quick cut montage manages to show the range of what the island has to offer), the scene's set for Sheila's interests to be awakened.

Essentially a social document of growing up and life in the south from when she was born in 1926 on Rakiura, this telling of a life story is amiable stuff. It helps that it's centred so laconically by Sheila herself , a fairly upbeat sort of a character, whose enthusiasm is never in question throughout.

Very occasionally, there are some sadnesses on display, giving Natusch a more rounded edge. Be it the lack of children or the rejection of her Animals in New Zealand book by a publisher written off when one error was clocked, the more human frailties are brought to the fore by MacDonald's use of footage and other's questions.

But with an ethos of "If I'm going to look back, that's what I want to see", the toothy Sheila is a tough old bird, with an attitude which many could learn from - but sadly, most of the audience for this piece won't unfortunately be the youngsters they're looking to try and inspire, with a feeling that perhaps an older generation or a clutch of people from the South will benefit better from this gentle portrait.

It could occasionally do with an edit, and it's not always entirely convincing chopping and changing from different interviewers to tell the story of her life with soundbites or interview moments, but when the spotlight shines on Sheila, there's evidence of the spirit and the inspiration which shine through.

Quite a handy social document as well as salutation to one of New Zealand's pioneering naturalists, No Ordinary Sheila is genial fare, which is fortunate to be blessed with the cunning dry wit and warmth of its quintessentially Kiwi subject.

47 Metres Down: Film Review

47 Metres Down: Film Review

Cast: Mandy Moore, Claire Holt, Matthew Modine, CGI Sharks
Director: Johannes Roberts

Entirely predictable but nonetheless fluffily entertaining, the obsession with sharks is once again mined in Johannes Roberts ticking time thriller, 47 Metres Down.

Centring on sisters Lisa and Kate (This Is Us' Moore and Vampire Diaries Holt respectively) who are on a holiday in Mexico together, 47 Metres Down is a strong advertisement for maybe never taking that seems-too-good-to-be-true off-the-beaten-track holiday experience.

Rankled by a recent break-up Lisa is wary when a couple of locals offer her and her thrill-seeking sister the chance to go into a shark tank and go underwater. But talked round by Kate, the duo embark on the trip overseen by a grizzled, bandana-wearing Matthew Modine.

However, when the cable snaps, sending the duo down to a seabed depth of 47 metres, and with air supplies running out, the pressure's on to get them out of the deadly waters.

Providing generic jump scares and a plethora of sisterly bonding and issues working out, 47 Metres Down is as disposable a piece of mid-year entertainment as Hollywood's likely to offer up. It starts out nicely with a subversion of the shark attack idea in a pool, and a dropped glass of red wine releasing a blood-like trail.

As was demonstrated by Blake Lively's lithe-body-in-a-bikini shark box office hit, The Shallows, there's still plenty to be mined in the old primal terror storyline of man (or woman) versus the elements. And while 47 Metres Down suffers from a lack of clear vision as it rests on the sea-bed thanks to dark murky shots, there's still the requisite amount of claustrophobia on show with close-ups of the girls demonstrating their plight.

While the end's signalled by a wordy explanation of a warning of the side-effects of diving, 47 Metres Down settles for a calm, very familiar horror set-up (hook ups with unknown locals, who may be too good to be true) before unleashing a frenzy of moments towards the end guaranteed to have you on the edge of your seat.

If you're willing to settle for generic moments and a degree of predictability, 47 Metres Down, with its relatively affable and familiar leads may prove the cinematic fish food you could chew on during the continuing winter months.

6 Days: NZIFF Review

6 Days: NZIFF Review

"Aggression's good, but control's the key"

It's a line uttered to an SAS trooper getting ready to storm the Iranian Embassy, but it could equally be applied to New Zealand director Toa Fraser's new thriller, 6 Days, the second offering of his at the New Zealand International Film Festival.

Billed by producer Matthew Metcalfe as our take on a world event, Dead Lands director Toa Fraser delivers an assured and steady re-telling of the events of the Iranian Embassy siege in London in 1980.

For those unfamiliar with the events, (most likely many outside of England itself, where it was a defining televisual and news moment), six Iranians stormed the Embassy, barricading themselves in and took 26 people hostage.

In the ensuing six days of the siege, police, negotiators and camera crews followed the tension and tried to resolve the situation, set as it was against a backdrop of increasing terrorist threats and governments caving to various demands.

Toa Fraser's calm and steady portrayal of the build up to the inevitable break down of negotiations and subsequent storming of the building proves to be relatively fuss-free.

It begins with the six casually walking in and taking over - there's no discussion of who they are, what their backgrounds are etc, it's simply a case of the execution of a job being done.

Equally, Fraser and script writer Glenn Standring's fuss-free approach to re-telling it all means this really does stick to the facts and quite simply gets on with the job. By powering through the days, taking in differing perspectives from the SAS training and running through scenarios, to the pomposity of Cabinet ministers coolly debating what needs to happen, 6 Days isn't really interested in providing either a glorified take on things or a gung-ho guns blazing approach to it all.

Using a stalwart Mark Strong as the hostage negotiator proves to be Fraser's winning moment, as Max Vernon's fragility and desperation to solve it all are clearly etched on his face. Abbie Cornish delivers a clipped English approach to the veteran BBC correspondent Kate Adie, and Jamie Bell brings a workmanlike pace to Rusty the SAS squad head honcho.

By stripping the film back and cutting off the soundtrack to showcase the sounds of the situation, Fraser brings a tension to bear throughout that's palpable, if not riveting. Characters are given the briefest of once overs, and end up feeling like cut-outs in context (though anything more than the slightest edges would have given this almost documentary-like pace an unnecessary edge).

With a smattering of humour and some nice touches (such as the SAS all geared up and bathed in green light as they ready themselves repeatedly), 6 Days is a solid film which delivers a solid recounting of events.

It may rightfully lack some of the edges of the usual of its fare, but that's a good thing here and if anything, the devil's in the detail, from the period trimmings to the atmosphere of the Sword of Damocles hanging over them all. By choosing not to morally apply judgements to all those involved, Fraser's multi-faceted approach to Standring's sensible script makes 6 Days a solid film that's worthy of showcasing his versatility as a director.

Waru: NZIFF Review

Waru: NZIFF Review

Eight independently told stories over one 10 minute period, linked by one single tragedy, but not so highly strung together it feels stretched.

That's the premise of the Maori female director-led Waru in an attempt to both stimulate discussion on child abuse and other Maori issues.

At the centre of it all is Waru, a boy killed in circumstances fully unknown, yet depressingly familiar, and whose opening words over a black screen "When I died, I saw the whole world" hint at the heartbreak of tragedy rippling through a community stricken by various forms of grief and guilt.

From there, the 8 female directors take on varying stories; from an aunty setting up the kitchen at the tangi, to a school teacher at a local kindy where Waru was and ending with 2 sisters on the road, the film's poignancy is evident in its subtlety and its execution.

Each vignette, grounded in a reality that's all too depressingly common, has a different director and story thread, but they're all intertwined with the common theme - and all bar one, they're more than successful at delivering what needs to be said having gone their own path and eschewed the usual trope of seeing the same story from different sides. Using singular shots and swirling around the locations, Waru's team of helmers make great fist of both time constraints and revealing a complete story.

While the great majority of the film works on its subtleties and imbues its subject with the gravitas that's needed and adds in some typically Maori humour, it's sad to note that the ever-so-slightly over-the-top section on the media handling of the case feels like the only section which is slightly fudged. It's the only story that slightly betrays the tone and feels like its extremist approach, while with valid points to raise, could have done it more with a shade less vitriol.

Elsewhere, the story involving two grandmothers, a marae and a challenge for Waru's body is utterly emotionally devastating, a powerful calling card over what a short story can deliver when helmed and written with utter precision. It's an electrifying commitment to culture, clashes of guilt and apportion of blame and self-examination in the light of tragedy, and in many ways, it feels uniquely New Zealand.

Having led us through the darker edges, the final short, with Miriama McDowell, proffers up a degree of frustrated hope and Waru concludes with much discussion to be had. Granted, there are a few moments when there's a bit of lecturing that's aimed at the characters (and by extension, us) throughout, but Waru's greatest strength lies in its subtlety of execution - its portmanteau approach makes this collection of thematically similar shorts both a damnation of societal ills and a template for discussion for change.

Happy End: NZIFF Review

Happy End: NZIFF Review

Michael Haneke returns to the festival circuit with something purporting to be lighter fare than his usual, but still with some of his usual concerns.

Centring on a construction dynasty and their gradual unravelling, a truly stellar cast taking on various roles as the Laurent family.

When the company's rocked by the ground giving way at a venue (an allegory much to be applied to the family itself), the various pressures on the Laurent clan become apparent. Combined with a suicide attempt from a family member and a patriarch determined to go on his terms, there's a lot to deal with for them all...

Happy End may be a comedy, but it seems to have forgone the laughs for something a little bleaker.

It's really only in its last 10 minutes that the humour seems to come to the fore and the film adds a few lighter touches. Described as a satire on bourgeois values, Happy End is a little lacking and frankly, in places, a touch dull as things happen off screen which are supposed to be of emotional consequence and leave you frustrated at what to cling on to.

With swathes of time devoted to a chatroom conversation in its full pixel glory, there are times when Happy End can sorely try your patience.

Where it not for Isabelle Huppert's calm composure, Toby Jones' presence and a searing turn from a young newcomer Fantine Harduin as a child entered into the dynasty, this would be sorely close to walk-out territory.

Haneke may be playing with some familiar themes of suicide and euthanasia, and there are some moments blessed by a scion of precision dialogue, but Happy End's wide varying eye means that it rarely feels like it settles on one subject for long enough for you to emotionally engage with.