Lucky: DVD Review

Lucky: DVD Review

There's no denying the poignancy thrust deep upon Lucky, by first time director John Caroll Lynch, and with Harry Dean Stanton as the lead.

With Stanton leaving us last year, the tale of Lucky, and his impending mortality is more than touching - it's lent a kind of moving tribute that seems woefully unprepared for its effect on audiences.

Stanton plays Lucky, a former Naval officer, who lives a day-to-day existence in an Arizona town, negotiating the banalities of life with the grace that comes from the end of your life. Ambling from one moment to the next - be it a series of yoga moves in the morning, a visit to the local diner for coffee and the crossword or the bar to see friends, Lucky does little except survive - and he's content with his lot.

But one day, after collapsing for no real reason, other than the town doctor telling him he's old, Lucky's routine is shattered by the impending sense of mortality.

Lucky is the kind of film where nothing happens, but everything matters.

From the central character's rugged face, worn down by a life that's been mixed and blessed to a truly wondrous speech inside a bar that's as bittersweet as it is joyous, there's a certain mournful tone that overtakes this film and shakes your core. A resonant rumination wrapped up in an enigmatic intriguing tone.

But it's also one of immense joy as well - an appreciation of Harry Dean Stanton's work, his character so imbued with both sadness and fear of what's next - you simply couldn't have picked anything better for his final film.

However, Carroll Lynch's camera settles into the lyrical poetic moments here, but also captures what are at times, little more than moving photographs, vistas of the deserted mountains, a tortoise ambling by - and he wraps it all up in a script that's as wry as it is whimsically witty. Settle into the rhythms early on, and Lucky is deeply rewarding.

There's a lyricism at play here, a feeling of the motions of life lived and of death faced. And it's wondrous to behold. Poignant and powerful, a celebration of the human connection it may well be, but it's also about the unsaid bonds that bind us all.

At its heart though is Stanton. His delivery of just two words - "I'm scared" - carry more in the cinema and in life than could be believed; it's both heartbreaking and universal, a tacit admission of what comes next and what dogs us through our life. But at the same time, Stanton's insertion into this world of quirk and humanity proves to be deeply moving - and with a final shot that's as perfect as ever a send-off could be, Lucky proves to be a lyrical salute to both Stanton and life itself. 

Hereditary: Blu Ray Review

Hereditary: Blu Ray Review

Blending psychological terror, a portrait of grief and some bravura directorial touches from a debuting Aster, Hereditary is currently being acclaimed as the scariest film since The Exorcist.

It's a claim which detracts from the film and which piles expectation unfairly onto the indie release - but it is pleasing to note that over the course of an extremely unsettling 2 hours, Ari Aster's debut is as exciting as it is enticing.

A tautly wound Collette plays Annie, a grieving mother who's just lost her apparently monstrous mother. As the film begins, the family is recovering post funeral, with her daughter Charlie (newcomer Shapiro) claiming to see the grandmother, and with son Peter (an utterly terrific turn from Wolff) becoming more distant. Barely supported by her husband Steve (an understated Byrne), Annie begins to experience visions and see things that shouldn't be there.

Steeped in tragedy, and with some genuinely gut-wrenching moments, Hereditary works best on the angle of whether Annie's imagining it as her grip on anything begins to unravel.

Drenching everything in dread, and employing some of the usual tropes of the horror genre (long, slow pans, a rising soundtrack), Hereditary feels compulsively fresh and equally sickening. While the ending, complete with its dumped exposition and reminiscent of moments of The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity's devilish cult denouement, feels a little rushed and almost laughable, the great majority of Hereditary is genuinely chilling stuff. Especially when the cards are stacked in favour of a possession tale rather than a supernatural explanation for everything.

Hereditary works best in large swathes when considered as a treatise on grief, and most of the cast play this as their raison d'etre throughout. Certainly Collette and Wolff are terrific, delivering performances which captivate as the cameras linger on them and their growing and increasingly weird predicaments.

Aster's the main star here though - whether it's a clever opening shot that takes us inside a dollhouse fashioned by Annie's meticulous eye or the transition between night and day that feels like a switch flicking on, Aster's aesthetics and eye for precision demand - and command - respect.

Ultimately, while Hereditary's end will prove rightfully polarising to much of the audience, the film's overall grip and commitment to its destination demonstrate its reason to be viewed - it's genuinely the most uncomfortable you will feel in the cinema since The Babadook and is in touches, one of the unnerving experiences of the year. 

The X Files Season 11: Blu Ray Review

The X Files Season 11: Blu Ray Review 

It's hard to know where exactly to go with the last potential season ever of the Mulder and Scully incarnation of The X Files.

From its opening episode, which dismisses the epic global cliffhanger of the last season as nothing more than a Bobby Ewing in the shower moment to the conclusion which massively sells Dana Scully and Gillian Anderson short, this extended 10 episode run is as mixed as the series has ever been.

Primarily the mythology episodes pull down the series with their constant adherence to arcs and themes that seem less enticing than before. While the central pull of the series seems to be finding Mulder and Scully's errant son William, there are revelations of a science-led rape to deal with.

Much more successful are the stand alone episodes which range from handling the Mandela Effect to a near mute episode that handles the damage being wrought by technology. It's here the creativity shines and the series reminds you of why it was so compelling.

Perhaps it's time for this chapter to close (words which are painful to write) as the hints of what was are so heavily outweighed by the elements of what's gone wrong this time around.

The Truth Is Out There - and it's this.

It may not be time to fully shut down The X Files, but it could be a case of hiatus which could help the show to stand on its own two feet, not crest on the waves of its own nostalgia.

RBG: Film Review

RBG: Film Review

Director: Betsy West, Julie Cohen

It's no surprise that in a post Me Too world, and a world where equality is less buzz word than enforced push for reality, that a film like RBG has blazed a trail.

Essentially, a straight down the line documentary (almost a little too dry in places to be frank), West and Cohen's look at what makes US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg tick is less about her, and more about the career path she's chosen.

A small woman, wizened in her later years, but towering in her achievements, Ginsburg's often referred to as a Witch, icon and Anti-American in the same breath. But the energy that opens this doco, which sees Ginsburg working out to a pulsing rap beat, gives way to a rather traditional down-pat experience which looks at her past, her facing the rampant sexism of the 1950s workplace, and her desire to defy the patriarchy.

Early on, glimpses of Ginsburg's life provide a time capsule of a life gone by, and of challenges still in our current day world, but what West and Cohen do is partially jettison this in favour of defining the woman through her caseloads, and her trail-blazing legal cases aimed at getting parity and justice.

It's a commendable approach, but in truth, shots of court backgrounds, with audio from hearings brought to life on the screen in written form, do little to breathe life into this relative firecracker of a woman, and the film suffers a slightly didactic approach for it.

More effective are the moments when she talks about her husband Marty, whose support was unswerving, and their shared devotion which deeply humanises her. Equally, scenes of Ginsburg revelling in the Saturday Night Live skits of which she's the subject of from Kate McKinnon offer a scene of a wicked mind, freshly enticed by a present day she's helped create.

In truth, Cohen and West deliver a degree of hagiography with this, calling on the recognition of the Notorious RBG and drawing attention to the pathetic distance the US has come - but as a doco about Ruth Bader Ginsburg, it feels like the portrait's not quite finished, even if the broad strokes of her work and life are in place to create an outline, rather than a fully fleshed out figure.

Night School: Film Review

Night School: Film Review

Cast: Kevin Hart, Tiffany Haddish, Rob Riggle, Taram Killam, Megalyn Echikunwoke
Director: Malcolm D Lee

From no less than six writers, "comedy" Night School aims low and continues to mine low, before delivering an unearned sentimentally sappy ending.

Hart plays Teddy Walker, a high school dropout who's living beyond his means as a BBQ salesman, and with a girlfriend Lisa clearly above his league. When a proposal goes awry, and Walker blows up the BBQ store, he realises it's time to go back to school and secure the GED diploma he never got so that he can progress in life.

But with a headmaster nemesis from his past (Killam) and a sassy teacher (Haddish) who won't stand for any of his smooth talking and desire to sail past, Teddy has his Night School work cut out.

Night School fails on many levels, but is happy to embrace as much dumb as it can to deliver what little laughs it has

The bar's set low early on when Hart's Walker pulls out his own pubic hair at a restaurant and plants it on his food to avoid paying a hefty bill, and then it keeps just going lower.

But the broad missives aren't particularly of the highest calibre, and don't always hit the target.

While Hart and Haddish have a nice caustic rapport that inevitably softens, their banter and childish rows feel improvised enough at times to hit some of the sweeter spots needed. But there's little to build on, and scant nothing to fully develop.

There could be an outsiders' Breakfast Club to be had here, with the misfits gang in place. To be frank though, Night School's characters are less than memorable and idiotically annoying.

However, a script that piles dumb on cliched and unoriginal doesn't help much - from the usual steal the exam heist to Rob Riggle's attempt at Tom Cruise's high rise misfire, Night School's lack of anything overtly or consistently funny really makes the film drag.

There will be audiences (possibly boozed up) who will adore this, but their adoration is misplaced.

Granted, there are some laughs to be had from Walker's one-liners, but once again Hart's comedy schtick just doesn't cut it thanks to a script that's woefully weak (even with six writers). Depressingly over-long, woefully not funny enough and as painful as nails on a school chalk board, this Night School sadly flunks out, without any chance to redeem itself.

Watch it be big at the box office.

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom: Blu Ray Review

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom: Blu Ray Review

"Save the dinosaurs on an island that's about to explode - what could possibly go wrong?"

This line uttered by Chris Pratt's returning dino handler Owen speaks volumes to the simplicity of what the latest Jurassic Park movie should be doing, but which somehow manages to fail due to a script that feels rote and a sense of wonder that's missing in a series of action sequences that don't quite light up the screen.

Four years after Isla Nublar's Jurassic World was shut down, there's a debate going on whether to save the dinos from extinction after the once dormant volcano explodes into life. (One of the greater threads of the film is animal activism, and it's jettisoned early on).

Pulled into the debate by a philanthropist is Dallas Howard's Claire (returning this time less in high heels, more in combat boots). Offered the chance to save the animals as part of a military expedition, she heads to recruit ex Owen (Pratt, in a curiously muted and downbeat turn) to try and ensure that beloved raptor Blue makes it back out alive.

However, it turns out all those involved higher up aren't exactly on the level....

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom is a curious beast, and even in the hands of The Orphanage and The Impossible director Bayona, it never quite manages to bridge the gap between sequel to become its own thing and its need to set-up for the threequel.

Clearly, Bayona can handle the CGI action early on on the island, with flying debris and creatures cluttering the screen with relative ease- complete with obligatory T-Rex roaring as something chaotic happens in the background.

But it's the human element that suffers, and with the creatures not feeling as fresh as before, there's a terrible sense of deja vu that hits Fallen Kingdom, crippling what becomes of its second half.

The series has always delighted in the humans, the folly of science gone mad, and the small intimate touches that bonded us to their plight and stopped accusations of their insanity. Think back to the first film and how the kids forced Sam Neill and Laura Dern together into becoming a nuclear family, with the long-suppressed survival instinct thrust to the fore.

This is not what Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom wants to achieve.

Its flaws in logic, its desire to set the back half into a horror movie and its nostalgic touches (that wing mirror moment, a few echoed sequences from the first film) mean the Fallen Kingdom lacks the tension it needs.

That's not to say there aren't effective scenes, familiar to Bayona's wheelhouse.

A sequence involving a child in a bed, stalked by a creature and its talons is nightmarish, riffing on many a childish fear that monsters are coming for you at night, is tremendously effective. And Bayona makes fantastic fist of shadows and flashes of light, giving what is a rote cliche of the horror genre a fresher and compelling touch.

But it's not enough in a script which sees characters acting deliberately stupidly as the slasher / stalker movie goes on. And it's certainly not enough in a film series whose prime MO is evoke wonder. Dallas Howard's Claire even evokes that by intoning of the wonder and marvel felt the first time you see a dinosaur in the flesh - that was always the Jurassic Park's raison d'etre - a sense of wonder and marvel made real, dazzling and terrifying back in 1993.

That's sorely missing this time around.

Most of that has been jettisoned in this latest, unfortunately, and Fallen Kingdom emerges feeling like a blockbuster that's the sum of its parts and little more. Bayona was on a tricky wicket with this one, unable to repeat the formula and yet weighed with a necessity to bridge, and as a result, clearly the majority of the film feels like set-up in extremis.

However, the desire to jettison the core reason in favour of gene-splicing shenanigans and mad villains backfires on Fallen Kingdom. A third film is underway, and those involved would be wise to either look seriously how to evolve the series.

As Jeff Goldblum's Dr Grant once said: "Life finds a way" - and the writers will need to for the 2021 Jurassic World film, rather than force the franchise into early and welcome cinematic extinction. 

Tully: DVD Review

Tully: DVD Review

Forever likely to be known as the M Night Shyamalan film of mothering, Diablo Cody's Tully is a mixed bag of a film, that flounders badly in its final strait.

Theron is largely excellent for a good two thirds of this as mother-of-two Marlo. Heavily pregnant with her third due any day, and with her brother (Duplass) claiming that something was snuffed out in her years ago, Marlo's life is pretty tough.

Ensconced in her family house, bedecked as it is in beige and with signs of age, and struggling to get by even with her husband absentee help, Marlo's given the chance to get a night nanny by her brother to help out.

Essentially the service comes in, watches the kid overnight and wakes the parent when feeding is needed - for her brother Craig, it was apparently a game-changer.

Initially reticent, Marlo grudgingly accepts - and into her life comes free spirit Tully (Davis, a gleeful blast of sunshine). Their relationship grows and a parenting groove is settled on - and to say more is to ruin some of what lies ahead.

The problem with Tully is that largely the first 60 minutes of the film, which concentrates on the pressures of mothering, the monotony of looking after children and the growing disillusionment of life outside of the bubble, are great.

Theron's more than committed to the role, with her pale gaunt appearance, worn down by endless feeding and a second problem child, conveying more of exasperation and acceptance than could ever be done by Cody's trademark whiplash dialogue. That's not to patronise or proffer feint praise to Theron, she's genuinely watchable and empathetic as she juggles all.

Equally, the feverishly anarchic and perky Davis adds a degree of life to Marlo's life and the house that prove a welcome tonic to the grind that's gone before.

But it's in the last 30 minutes of Tully, where things of great importance happen with little to no consequence that it feels like narrative contrivance and supposed magical script wizardry writ large.

There are no spoilers here, but the denouement feels largely like it cheats the film of the grounded reality and mundanity it finds itself in, early on. It's impossible to win though, with Cody's occasionally snarky screenplay clearly mocking the perfect mothers and simultaneously bigging up those who simply accept it and get on with it (which will be a large part of the intended viewing population.)

Ultimately, Tully becomes tarred by the path it chooses - that it does so with relative finesse for most of the journey is a good thing because when it revels in its veracity and borders closely on reality, it's a compellingly familiar watch.

It's just a real shame that Tully's divisive ending tarnishes and to a degree, belittles everything which has gone before it, slathering most of the film in a feeling that consequence is nothing but bothersome and inconsequential.