The Seagull: DVD Review

The Seagull: DVD Review

Based on the play by Anton Chekhov, director Michael Mayer's take on The Seagull is a light, breezy film that benefits greatly from its core cast.

Bening, Stoll and Ronan all breathe exceptional life into their respective roles.

Bening is Irina, an actress whose insecurities stretch to admonishing her son Constantin and mocking his attempts at play-writing. Called in to visit her ailing brother, a tale unfolds of how Constantin met Saoirse Ronan's Nina, an appalling wannabe actress who became his muse.

However, Irina has brought with her the famous writer Boris Trigoran (Stoll, a stoic presence) whose appearance at the family home causes rifts and consternation as all tremble in the shadow of his reputation.

As the rifts deepen, everyone's insecurities increase exponentially...

As mentioned, The Seagull benefits from a career best from Bening, whose scoffing and mocking of those around her surfaces amid her own insecurities. Bening more than delivers, adding touches of nuance when required and bringing the pain to the fore as it's needed.

Equally Stoll and Ronan add much to the ensemble as the combination of comedy and drama unfolds; additional support from a growingly unhinged Elisabeth Moss as an infatuated woman lends the necessary scorn to the piece.

However, some of the hints of destruction are not seen on the screen, and with the flashbacks played out only to a point, The Seagull doesn't quite deliver the emotional heft that's necessary in times. An attempted suicide falls flat, a discussion of one character left bereft feels stripped of the heft - granted, it's a different approach but given the denouement relies on the emotion of the past as the script comes full circle from the flashbacks, it feels a little like The Seagull cheats - even if it does follow Chekov's play.

Fortunately, biting dialogue and stellar performances detract from the downsides, and The Seagull takes flight when it needs to, but fails to soar into the skies when it should. 

Stan & Ollie: Film Review

Stan & Ollie: Film Review

Cast: John C Reilly, Steve Coogan, Shirley Henderson, Nina Arianda
Director: Jon S Baird

Less a film about an actual break-up, more a piece about the aftermath, Stan & Ollie's tale of a degenerating work partnership and the effects of long-term friendship.

Beginning in 1937 with Coogan's Stan Laurel refusing to sign a new contract with studio head Hal Roach at the peak of their fame, the cracks show when Oliver Hardy (Reilly in a spot-on turn as the infamous gambler and womaniser Babe) doesn't demonstrate solidarity with his on-screen chum.

Fast forward 16 years and the motion pictures have dried up, the crowds have largely deserted and the audiences have moved on, Baird's film follows the duo in the twilight of their career as they pursue live shows in the UK.

Whilst Stan & Ollie doesn't exactly push the envelope in terms of on-screen presentation, but it's pleasantly evocative of an era long since forgotten in a world that revolves around CGI.

Simply and affectionately presented, Stan & Ollie benefits greatly from everything being laid bare on the table - the performances pickle in their own bittersweet moments, and the finale is designed - and succeeds in - to deliver a lump to the throat.

Coogan and Reilly encapsulate the duo perfectly; from Coogan's slight stumbles as he delivers Laurel's trademark speech patterns, to Reilly's capturing of Hardy's performance tics, this is a deeply affectionate tribute to the duo.

But more than that the bittersweet touches and hints of a friend not wanting to let down another friend are subtly painted in and liberally applied throughout. More goes unsaid during the film, but when the moments need to be delivered in the final 10 minutes, it's perfectly dispatched for superb effect.

At its core, Stan & Ollie is a film about friendship, of the peaks and troughs, of the resentments both spoken and kept internalised - and Coogan and Reilly make wondrous fists of both the sub-text and the physical demands of Laurel and Hardy's routines, which are recreated throughout.

There's wonderful support from Henderson and Adrianda as their wives, with their spiky relationship echoing that of Laurel and Hardy themselves, and showcasing a different paradigm of much the same relationship mechanic - it's fair to say their arrival enlivens things a little, but the groundwork's already been done by Reilly and Coogan with ease.

Bathed in melancholy, with a wonderful opening tracking shot that mixes both the truth of the Laurel and Hardy dynamic as well as the need to constantly perform for the public no matter how fleetingly, Stan & Ollie is a fitting celebration and a biopic that's haunting and anything but another fine mess.

Vox Lux: Film Review

Vox Lux: Film Review

Cast: Natalie Portman, Raffey Cassidy, Willem Dafoe, Jude Law, Jennifer Ehle
Director: Brady Corbet

Brady Corbet's Vox Lux aims to shock, albeit unintentionally.

Its opening is as powerful as it is mundane, beginning as we do with Raffey Cassidy's Celeste going back to school after the holidays. To say more is to deprive you of the jolt, but needless to say Corbet's opening salvo puts our heroine on a path she'd not expected as tragedy comes calling.

As Celeste begins to find her singing voice, she's aided by her agent (Jude Law) as Vox Lux's pre-2001 episode begins to chart her career ascent as a singer. Book-ended by both a personally major event and a US event of the time, Celeste's life is tarnished with tragedy.

The messy scrappy second half of the film picks up 16 years later with Portman portraying Celeste as she mounts the comeback trail, before something else threatens to overwhelm her and her plans.

Vox Lux is a pompous, self-obsessed, pretentious mite of a movie - and some will run lovingly into its arms because of that very fact, while others will head in the opposite direction screaming.

But its two halves division causes an issue, and the first's stronger loss-of-innocence tale towers over the second, with a subtlety of direction and script helping propel it along (as well as Dafoe's booming voiceover pomposity).

However, its second half is blessed by a ferocious Portman, who revels in the Gaga-esque edges of the character, but who makes the self-loathing feel all too real, after years of insecurities eat away at her from the first years of her life and career as she teeters on the cusp of her journey.

There's a bravura edge on Corbet's filmmaking, even if the script and its ultimately disappointing end make parts of the film feel uneven. As an artistic endeavour, it's second to none, revelling in its luxuries in the second half, but dawdling in its emotional waters early on.

Vox Lux is polarising to be sure - is it a commentary on the music industry, on society and its violence, is it a piece about how we've always been anchored in violence and its effects?

No one is telling for sure as it ends, but what is certain about Vox Lux is that it's a piece of film-making which will shock you out of the dullness that pervades cinemas these days. And while that power is never quite as stringent as in its first half, its effects linger long after it's ended.

Escape Room: Film Review

Escape Room: Film Review

Cast: Taylor Russell, Logan Miller, Deborah Ann Woll, Tyler Labine
Director: Adam Robitel

Less torturous than the Saw franchise, but still none the less suspenseful, Escape Room's premise is a nicely executed mystery box, awaiting to be opened.

Zoe (Russell) is a college kid, who finds herself at a loose end at the Thanksgiving break, and not going home. Upon receiving a mystery box, she cracks it open, eventually, to discover an invite to an Escape Room meeting, where the prize is $10,000 for escape.

Upon arrival, she finds a clutch of others in the waiting room as well, destined to be her colleagues in the escape. But each has a secret, and as the reality begins to settle in, everyone has everything to lose.

While Escape Room is a case of some fairly weak character work (everyone's a stereoptype in some form or other), thanks to the lead's empathy, there's a bit to latch on to in terms of emotional stakes.

And what Escape Room may lack in depth for leads, it more than makes up for in terms of execution.

Essentially a series of five chamber pieces, the claustrophobia and suspense of an escape machination is given a taut and well-executed edge. Certainly, the aesthetics of the third room is brilliantly conceived and nonchalantly realised. To say more is to spoil that reveal, but needless to say this one central set piece more than makes for the price of admission.

What's not as great about Escape Room (aside from some of the aforementioned characterisation) is the fact its ending feels deliberately conceived as a cash-grab, scene setting for anything future. It's massively disappointing that this cynical approach is deployed, robbing the audience of a feeling of completion and a film that deserves another on its own merits, rather than lazy writing by studio fat-cats.

Ultimately, Escape Room provides some knotty moments, gives the torture-porn series a welcome non torturous approach, but fails the finale intensely.

The Girl In The Spider's Web: Blu Ray Review

The Girl In The Spider's Web: Blu Ray Review

The Millennium Trilogy was, to be frank, a sensation.

Dark, dingy, Scandi-noir that hooked audiences, the Noomi Rapace/ Michael Nyqvist combo sustained three films and millions of book sales. The subsequent reimagining with Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara fell short, even if it embraced some of the darkness and intense nastiness which percolated through the first.

And now, from the director of Don't Breathe, the book not written by Stieg Larsson has made it to the big screen, with The Crown star Claire Foy taking the lead role of hacker Lisbeth Salander.

Yet, The Girl In The Spider's Web all feels so formulaic, and largely unexciting.

The story concerns Salander who's contacted by Stephen Merchant's Frans Balder to retrieve a defence programme he's written. Salander does, but then finds herself unexpectedly under attack from others who want it, and framed for crimes she didn't commit.

Racing against time to clear her name, and stop the end of the world, Salander discovers the conspiracy has a very familial feel to it...

The problems with The Girl In The Spider's Web are largely not those connected with the execution of the film, which deploys some clever twists and starkly nasty imagery with veritable aplomb.

And the problem doesn't lie on the shoulders of a relatively emotionless Foy, who largely turns Salander into a scowling, scornful, brooding superhero type, in a performance which dials down the restraint, ups the physicality from Foy and leaves an impressive feel.

The main issue with The Girl In The Spider's Web is the story itself - it seems so out of keeping with what the original trilogy aimed for.

When Salander first appears, it's like she's cosplaying Oliver McQueen from Arrow, and the script demands an avenging angel like performance as the righter of wrongs, catapulting Salander into the echelons of damaged superheroes. And while Alvarez does much with jerky camera movements and handheld rushes to complement a sense of suspense at the start, he soon abandons for formulaic thriller territory.

The Girl In The Spider's Web still has some nightmarish edges, and while the emotional touches at the end come down to a short scene involving two people on a snowy ledge, there's little to let the light in throughout.

Stanfield is terribly and woefully underused as an American agent chasing the missing program; and in much similar ways, journalist Mikael Blomkvist is sidelined as the story goes on, robbing the film of the central spiky partnership that was such a tenet of the original series.

If all of this feels like The Girl In The Spider's Web is being damned, it's pertinent to say it's still a competent thriller, even if it's one constrained in a narrative web of its own doing.

It's just compared to the original films, and source material, no matter what Alvarez and Foy do, it's not enough to lift it from the gloom that pervades throughout - both of atmosphere and of oh-so-familiar pulp plot which lacks the sophistication and lyrical poetry of the first three. 

How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World: Film Review

How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World: Film Review

Cast: Jay Baruchel, America Ferrara, F Murray Abraham
Director: Dean DeBlois

The animated dragon saga hits its conclusion capper with The Hidden World, a film that's a visually layered but occasionally muted end to the series.

Jay Baruchel's Hiccup is back, this time as the chief of Berk, and still pal to alpha dragon Toothless.

With Hiccup facing marriage to Astrid (Ferrara), the world of Berk is thrown into disarray with the arrival of a new dinosaur hunter Grimmel (Murray Abraham) determined to wipe Toothless' kind from the world.

As the tribe up and leaves from Berk, Hiccup begins to doubt himself, and worries what future lies ahead for them all - and most importantly, for his pal Toothless.

There is no doubting the calibre of the animation of How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World.

Certainly, the sequence where The Hidden World is discovered is visually astounding, shimmering as it does with colour, and subtle hues.

And there are moments between Toothless and his new lady dragon friend that are up there with some of the best animal courtship sequences you've seen on TV animal shows (complete with some truly adept orchestral scores helping the scenes soar).

The visuals are award-worthy, and certainly do much to build on previous installments.

But it has also to be said, there's a lot of distraction in How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World which pulls away from engaging with Hiccup one last time. Tedious back and forth bonehead banter between Tuffnut and Ruffnut grates immensely and derails the emotional heft that's brewing.

When How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World concentrates solely on Hiccup and Toothless though, it soars. From the age old message of learning to love with loss, and realising they have to move on, Jay Baruchel does some of his best work, giving Hiccup the bittersweet sadness he needs to carry it off.

It's a good solid end and capper to the trilogy, and while the emotional edges work best when they stay focussed, the ultimate open end feel to the film allows you to hope against hope that one day, Hiccup and Toothless will reunite on the big screen.

Mega Time Squad: DVD Review

Mega Time Squad: DVD Review

More loopy, than Looper, Mega Time Squad is a blast.

A ludicrously-fuelled tale of crime and lack of ambition in middle New Zealand (Thames, to be precise), director Tim Van Dammen's follow up to NZIFF hit Romeo and Juliet: A Love Story is nonetheless stylish.

Anton Tennet is John, a small town hoodlum who's less a player, more easily-to-be-played. Part of a crime gang run by Jonny Brugh's Shelton (the humourous lunatic of the piece), John's sent to rob a triad at his behest to prevent the Chinese from getting a foothold in Thames.

While carrying out the deed, John gets his hands on a mysterious piece of Chinese jewellery that has mystical time-travelling properties...and suddenly finds he has ambitions he never realised.

Fresh, enticing and flipping funny, Mega Time Squad is easily one of the best time at the movies.

With a laconic style and some unexpectedly humorous moments to pierce any of the meanness (of which there's little) van Dammen celebrates the Kiwi in the middle of the country, and never once loses any of the smarts of the film's genre. It may play up the mystical elements of the bracelet and then never quite deliver (the film's only criticism), but van Dammen's clever enough to use the genre for what it needs, and never loses sight that the core of the story is of a man stuck where he is split between wanting to be and not.

Very much a celebration riddled through with a lunatic lo-fi joie de vivre (and some truly amusing yet human imagery, pies under a cloche being the best), Mega Time Squad is enjoyable.

There's nothing pals and pies can't solve, and amid the wannabe gangster storyline and growing absurdities, Mega Time Squad packs as big a heart as you could ever want from a NZ film.