In Place Of Eyes - A Tim Burton Mini Marathon

In Place Of Eyes - A Tim Burton Mini Marathon

Featuring Partially Educated Reviews of

Beetlejuice

Edward Scissorhands

Ed Wood

Big Fish

and Frankenweenie

The latest film from Tim Burton came out on Boxing Day. It's called Big Eyes and you could be forgiven for not knowing about it, because nowhere seemed to be showing it. As a result, I am yet to see the latest work from one of my favourite directors of all time, so I decided to re-watch some of his other films instead.

If there's one thing that's been lacking from some of Burton's more recent work, it's a distinct lack of imagination. Though his visual touch remains, only one of Burton's films (Corpse Bride) has been created without a previous source material to inspire it. His own bizarre mind hasn't fully unleashed itself on us for quite some time. When you look at some of the original stories he's made, that's a real shame. Case in point: Beetlejuice. A film about a recently deceased couple (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis) enlisting the services of a deranged at best bio-exorcist to remove the new occupiers of their past home. For the audience, this film will be all about Michael Keaton as Beetlejuice and the film comes to life when he's in it. Despite the fact that he's the title character, this is rarer than you would perhaps expect and the first half of the film is focussed heavily on Baldwin and Davis. That's not really a problem, as Baldwin and Davis do play decent protagonists, but once you've met Beetlejuice, you'll spend other scenes wondering where he's gotten to. Jeffrey Jones and Catherine O'Hara are also great as the new occupants, while Winona Ryder is fine in the pivotal role of Jones and O'Hara's misfit daughter. Quite honestly, I've never been the biggest fan of Ryder, because you can always see her acting rather than becoming the character. Pretentious though that sounds, it's fairly similar here, but not to too bad of an extent. For all the good that's on show here, it's fairly safe to say that none of it would be possible without Burton's vision, bringing so much twisted imagination to proceedings that it's hard to not be in awe of it. The curse of the 80's means that the effects are horribly dated, but the film is so original that these are offset by an enjoyable story that has amazingly survived without too many rip-offs following it. Perhaps more screen time could have been afforded to Keaton in favour of pretty much everyone else, but with the rumours of an impending sequel, we may very well be getting to see more of him. Then again, that might pay off as well as Anchorman 2.

FOUR out of five

Prepare for an arse kissing. I have a friend who once tried to suggest that Edward Scissorhands was nowhere near as good as people made it out to be and that I only liked it so much because of my own bias towards any suggestion that Burton is anything less than a genius. Since then, that person's opinion has been worth about as much to me as the dirt that gets sandwiched into the ridges of the sole of my boot. Edward Scissorhands is as good as anyone will tell you. As far as I'm concerned, unless someone cites it as one of the best films ever made, they're underselling it. I'm well aware that is a statement that could lead to anticlimax when it comes to raised expectations, but it's too late now. After the "unfinished" Edward (Johnny Depp) is discovered by kindly Avon lady Peg (the exceptional Dianne Wiest), he is bought to live with her. Having been locked away for the entirety of his previous life, Edward has no idea of behaviours or principals of the world around him and thus must learn as he goes along, adapting the use of his scissor hands to become of use to society. Unfortunately, Peg resides in a garish suburbia, filled with some the scummiest examples of the human race, all entirely convinced of their grasp on civility. The downside of this means that outside of Edward and his family, the film is populated almost entirely by arseholes. The upside is that this gives us some awesome performances. Top mention goes to Kathy Baker, as Joyce, a poisonous example of what happens when the prom queen achieves nothing afterwards. Anthony Michael Hall also gives us the last great performance of his career (unless a miracle happens) as Jim, the ingratiating brute that happens to be dating Peg's daughter (Ryder again). With Ryder having conjured up the butterflies in Edward's artificial stomach, this obviously doesn't sit well with Jim, bringing the absolute worst in an already reprehensible character. Ryder's performance is the strongest I can think of and any Depp haters can rest easier knowing that while the performance has it's quirks, it's a very understated and subtle one, far removed from the likes of Jack Sparrow and recent abomination Mortdecai (more on that next week). With a script that oozes depth in it's every word and scene, it's a fairly safe bet that Edward Scissorhands will be featuring in the next Top 10 I do. Actually, scrap that, it's a guarantee.

FIVE out of five

Obvious (and inexperienced) statement of the day: Hollywood is one hell of a cynical environment to work in. Every bit as quick to condemn as they are to gush, this means that directors like Ed Wood can at least be remembered, if only for the wrong reasons. It's fairly fitting though that Burton was the one to make the film about him, given that there's so many parallels between their works. Not in quality of course, but in their determination and obsession with realising their visions. At the end of the day, that was all Wood wanted to achieve and, to a degree, he succeeded. It just wasn't all that enjoyable for the people that had to watch it. With this biopic, Burton is out to neither criticise Wood, nor mock his works, instead presenting the life of Wood in a style that the man wanted to achieve in his own films. From the opening monologue of hack psychic Criswell (Jeffrey Jones) to the caricatured depiction of these real life characters, there's lots of nods to Wood's own films. Depp plays Wood with the lack of restraint that he would go on to push further and further, but it's yet to get irritating here. Meanwhile, Martin Landau earns his Oscar, by playing Bela Lugosi in the way that people probably imagined him to be, rather than the way he probably was. This is Lugosi in his later years and thus at his lowest low, but the campiness and overplaying are backed up by a human touch that shows Lugosi coming to terms with his impending departure from this Earth and his attempt to give himself that one last great role. In this respect, we see the less pleasant side to Wood. Though he never descends into anything outright nasty, nor are his intentions ever coming from a bad place, Wood is shown to be a master manipulator: taking money from people under false promises and forming his own little troop of cast and crew in what borders on his own cult of personality. These are necessary touches, but instead of sneering, they feel like Burton's attempts to help us understand the man on the basis of his intentions, rather than the result of those intentions. Sadly, Ed Wood is now known for being more of a cult classic, pretty much because it's a great film that tanked. Unlike Wood's own films though, this is worth watching not because of it's own failings in quality, but because of the fact that it's fate was grossly undeserved.

FIVE out of five

Well, this is crushing. I watched this film when it first came out and loved it. Really loved it. With it being a good decade or so since I'd last seen it, I was more than amped up for a second viewing and must now disappointedly report that while it's still good, it's not quite as excellent as I remembered it. As the ageing Edward Bloom (Albert Finney) lies on his death bed, his estranged son (Billy Crudup) comes to his side in one last attempt to fully understand his father. This isn't as easy as it would seem, because Bloom has always told his life story through the use of wonderful (but undeniably impossible) adventures. What we get is a reflective piece in which we follow the life of Bloom (played in younger form by Ewan McGregor) through these tall tales, leaving us to question not the validity of the tales, but the validity of their use as a removal from the likely mundanity of real life. The film looks beautiful, framing the heightened events in entirely real world settings in order to avoid things straying too far into the fantastical. Unfortunately, we're taken through them by McGregor, who plays the confidence of the central character to the point where it descends into pure arrogance and the character becomes horribly unlikeable. It seems we're supposed to take against the people who can't stand him, but it's just so easy to see why they hate him so much. His stapled-on cheshire cat grin renders his face so gratingly punch worthy that any time it does come to some harm, you can't help but laugh a little. This, on it's own, would be enough to cripple a film, but fortunately a variety of supporting roles help to bring some enjoyment into things. Steve Buscemi and Danny DeVito deserve mentions, but so too does Crudup, who takes on a moderately thankless role, but proves to be the anchor that holds the film in place. Any annoyance that the audience may feel towards Bloom is echoed in Crudup's own feelings, meaning there's always him to relate to when things go a bit too far. Also on the positive side, the ending is very well played, managing to bring things together in a way that's far more cohesive than the film would have you believe it's going to be. It's deeply sentimental and this may annoy some, but I can only speak for myself and I enjoyed it. These things are enough to make Big Fish a good film. It's just a shame that I remember it being so much better.

THREE out of five

Following Big Fish, Burton's career went a bit downhill with a few remakes, the decent, but unremarkable Sweeney Todd adaptation and his revival of Dark Shadows (another unfortunate entry I'll be dealing with next week). While Frankenweenie may have been one of those remakes, it was at least refreshing to feel that there was a real purpose to it. Burton takes his little seen short and gives it the wider exposure that he feels it deserves and that feels like filmmaking for all the right reasons. On the face of it, Frankenweenie would seem like a deeply pretentious offering from Burton and the casual film viewer could be forgiven for dismissing the film outright. Though the film masquerades itself as a family cartoon, it likely won't work for a lot of family audiences. Instead, it's a cartoon that's really for film and, more specifically, Burton fans. It's not a very well kept secret how much Burton is influenced by the Boris Karloff version of Frankenstein, to the point where he paid full tribute (or should that say ripped off) that film's windmill sequence in Sleepy Hollow. Instead of one scene, Frankenweenie's entire runtime is an homage to that film. When the young Victor Frankenstein's dog Sparky is run over and killed, he sets about re-animating the dog, but finds that hiding his achievement from everyone else isn't particularly easy. The film uses similar stop-motion animation to Corpse Bride, but the most notable stylistic choice is that the film is entirely in black and white. There's a joke in Woody Allen's Celebrity about black and white being only used by directors wanting to convince the audience of their own artistic integrity and that may be slightly the case here, but if taken in context of the film's stance as tribute, he just about gets away with it. It's also quite ironic that the film is produced by Disney, given that the animation decisions seem to be Burton's own way of sticking two fingers up at that company. Early in his career, he worked as an animator for them, but found his animations for The Fox And The Hound getting rejected because they "looked like roadkill". Bar the dog, there's no animals here to roadkill up, but there are plenty of children to present in an exceedingly creepy way. These kids are not the typical aspirational visions of supposed greatness that you would normally see, but fit far more into the role of misfits. That Burton presents us with precisely zero examples of the "cool kid" is further testament to this really being his baby. This is a film that's much easier to enjoy if you're equipped with an understanding of Burton himself, but really, it never sparks in that way that helps it to stand on the story alone. For someone like me, Frankenweenie is enjoyable enough. For others, I'm not so sure.

THREE out of five

Next Time (12th February)

NoisyBangBangRobotOrgasm!!!!!!!

Partial Education Presents

NoisyBangBangRobotOrgasm!!!!!!!!

Featuring Partially Educated Reviews of

The Transformers Series

and The Rock (for perspective's sake)

It turns out that 2014 was the end of an era, because Michael Bay has declared that he will not be directing another Transformers film. That's right, the torch is being passed on to another director; traditionally a sign that the series will begin to deteriorate in quality (see X-Men, Batman and a fair few others). My question: is it actually possible for it to get any worse?

Side Note: You know there's not going to be a lot of positivity in these reviews. Let's be honest, that's why you've come here and that's why my most read articles are a review of a Michael Bay film and my Top 10 Worst Films So Far. With that said, I feel context is essential. I watch Michael Bay films in the hope that they will be good, not just because I want to watch a great film, but because there was a time when he was capable of making them. Before you accuse me of barefaced lying, allow me to state my case with a review of…

Coming at a time when the only example of Bay's work was the solid (still not great) Bad Boys, his music videos and his (I'm sure classic) documentary on Playboy's Kerri Kendall (I feel no shame in not having the faintest clue who she is), The Rock was able to exist without stigma. There was no Pearl Harbo(u)r for people to bemoan, no Bad Boys II for people to somehow be surprised about when it turned out to be crap and no Shia LaBeouf for us to blame on him. Perhaps now it will be hard to believe me then, when I tell you that The Rock is a really great, completely batshit insane action film. That will be made even less believable when I tell you that Nicolas Cage is one of the lead actors, but it is true. When an Alcatraz tour is held hostage by Ed Harris' disgruntled general, he issues his demands with the threat of a chemical attack on San Francisco. Cue the enlistment of Cage's chemical weapons expert Dr Stanley Goodspeed (oh yeah!) and the temporary release of the only man who has ever successfully broken out of Alcatraz. The one, the only, Mr Sean Connery. The Rock bares all the trademarks of a Bay film; hyped up testosterone, persistent displays of manliness and female characters with less development than my grasp on maturity. Yet, a lot of his most irksome qualities have been kept away from it. There's no objectification of women (he just ignores them instead), the script is boosted by some excellent, but obvious ghostwriting from Quentin Tarantino and Aaron Sorkin and, simply enough, the plot is actually intelligible. Not only that, it holds decent characters too, particularly with Harris' villain bordering on genius. It's said that the best villains are those that feel justified in their actions and not only is it obvious to see why Harris is doing what he is doing, you will inevitable take his side from time to time. The Rock may bear the hallmarks of everything that people would come to hate about Mr Bay, but also makes it easier to see why people let him do what he does in the first place. Brace yourself, Bay haters!

FOUR out of five

And now breathe…

"We're now starting our first, but certainly not our last, Transformers movie that I hope will be an enduring franchise and we're going to be making many, many more Transformers movies in the future. But we're going to make the best one first because we want the best one to inspire everybody not to only play with these toys but to want to know about the further adventures of all of these characters, both human and machine alike."

Steven Spielberg

Well he wasn't lying when he said about making the best one first, but I'm not feeling all that inspired. With a plot that's essentially "Good Robots, YAY! Bad Robots, BOO!", Transformers marked the beginning of what would be my 613 minute (and didn't I feel every single one of them pass) descent into self-imposed insanity. The best thing to be said about Transformers is that it didn't fill me with as much despair for the state of the modern blockbuster as some of what was about to come. Boredom, on the other hand, was having a clearance sale. In keeping with the theme of backhanded complements, a good way to bring it into perspective is to compare it to the others. It has most of the same flaws that they do, but they're not quite as pronounced. Shia LaBeouf sets the groundwork for Sam Witwicky as the screechy plebeian hero. He also serves as the audience's way into the story, by way of his total ignorance opening up the path for excessive exposition. Megan Fox's Mikaela, meanwhile, shows Bay's own idea of feminism; so long as the chick's badass, people might not notice how many times I'm shooting her arse. The robots are where some of the fun is to be had (though I'm stretching there). Their characters may be crafted from some of the most cast-iron stereotypes going, but they at least have some humour about them. The focus is far too much on the good guys though, particularly when you take into account just how indistinguishable each bad robot is from the other. Quite honestly, it took me till the end of the third film before I was able to recognise Megatron and he's the chief villain that runs through all three films. If that's not a problem, I don't know what is. Then there's the recurring thread throughout all four of these films: the final battle. The problem here is one that dogs every single one of these films. It is indulgently long, damning unmemorable and just plain dull. Instead of creating memorable moments, Bay congeals into a mess of explosions, loud noises and LaBeouf's girly scream. It's a problem that only gets worse, so let's move on.

TWO out of five

"Steven Spielberg sat next to me in a big 100 person theatre at Sony today. There were 98 empty seats. The lights came up after we just watched my cut of Revenge Of The Fallen. He turned to me and said 'It's awesome'. He felt this movie was better than the first - and probably my best, who knows - at this point in a movie you start to lose your objectivity'

Michael Bay

The only reassuring thing about that statement is the idea of this film only selling 2% of it's allocated seats. Within the first half hour of Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen, we have been subjected to all of the following. The return of Megan Fox's arse, shot from any angle you could imagine. The increasingly annoying antics of the Witwicky parents, culminating in the female counterpart getting stoned and proving that just when you thought you'd been mentally tortured enough, there's always a way of making things worse. The introduction of LaBeouf's roommate Leo (Ramon Rodriguez), perhaps the most annoying character ever presented to us by Bay. You also get the questionable inclusion of jive-talking robots. Worst of all though, we come to the slow and painful realisation that the addition of Ehren Kruger in the scriptwriting team is about to achieve the impossible and spiral this series further down than you could ever imagine. There are two critical differences that help to make Revenge Of The Fallen the worst film in the series and the script is the first of them. It is fatally convoluted, much more than the original. At least in that, you felt as though you'd picked up the gist of the story. Revenge Of The Fallen is practically impenetrable, which would perhaps be forgivable if the story was worth bothering about, but I've checked and it isn't. It focusses on the Fallen, who basically wants to destroy the entire human race. Not only is he as one-note as it comes, he serves as an extra villain to a series that needed anything but. Again, Megatron is completely stripped of any identity, meaning that Bay officially squanders the voice of Hugo Weaving for a second time. This leads me on to the second issue as this film isn't Michael Bay on his standard levels of ineptitude. No, this is Bay disrupting the time-space continuum through the application of previously untold levels of abundant incompetence. His artistic vision is so focussed on Fox's derrière that he loses even the few skills that he previously held. The framing of the action scenes is horrific, making it practically impossible to tell anything that is going on, or even work out which is the good robot and which is the bad robot. His use of music is horribly distracting, not only re-using Linkin Park's New Divide to the point of exhaustion, but clumsily throwing in hit songs without any apparent realisation of what they're actually about (Green Day's 21 Guns being the most notable). This smacks of a director knowing that he's got both a pay check and hit film on his hands and deciding "You know what, let's blow some shit up. No one would ask for anything more". Michael, though it may be my own fault, I want my 150 minutes back!

ONE out of five

"What we did with this movie is, I think, we have a much better script and we got back to basics. I think there's some really cool action in this movie, there's some very cool conspiracy, there's great robot stuff in this that people were missing in the second one, you've got great robot conflict."

Michael Bay

If you take out all the "greats" and "cools", he kind of has a point because, if nothing else, Dark Of The Moon is at least better than Revenge Of The Fallen. That said, shaving your scrotum is probably better than shaving your eyeballs. It doesn't mean you should try it. The key thing that makes Dark Of The Moon superior (I'm in danger of being positive here) is the plot. There's a bit more to it this time around. In fact, the middle hour almost made me feel that this could be quite good, packing some pretty solid twists and turns. They're all fairly basic, but executed in a way that's not too shabby, serving to add a little something to the film. Before you get to that though, you have to get through the first hour and, though Revenge Of The Fallen is the worse film overall, it's never quite as bad as Dark Of The Moon's first moments. LaBeouf is at his most annoying, literally shrieking his way through half of his scenes and then indulging in self-entitled groaning the rest of his time. Bay also outdoes himself by going from the slightly pervy treatment of Fox to full-on objectification when it comes to Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. For those who don't know, Rosie H-W came in for a lot of stick in this film when it became apparent that she held as much acting ability as she did natural ugliness…

…and you're not going to hear me argue with that. She's terrible and has blatantly been cast for her looks. As if it wasn't obvious enough though, Bay drills home the point with angles designed to show off as many curves as possible. As I've said, a lot of these issues subside with the superior second act, but the film lets itself down again with the typically lacklustre final act. First off, the sound is shocking. From a standpoint of innovative creation and technical prowess when it comes to sound design and effects, it's exceptional, but it forgets the cardinal rule of dialogue coming first. A number of lines are impossible to hear in this film. Sure, they may not be that important, but that's not exactly the point. Also, the final fight makes previous entries feel modest when it comes to excessive length. It has one memorable set piece, but that's far from enough. So there you have it, proof that the use of better as a recommendation is very much dependant on the quality of the alternative.

TWO out of five

On whether Michael Bay would return to make a fourth Transformers film…

"I hope so, because I think he made the best of the three with this last one. I certainly can't imagine anybody other than Michael being equipped to make another Transformers. He's invented a genre and he's got the secret formula."

Steven Spielberg

I feel I should come up with a name for that genre, but words are kind of failing me. After the last three reviews, you'd have thought there wouldn't be a right lot left to say about this series and you'd probably be right. There's some differences with Age Of Extinction though. First off, there's Mark Wahlberg taking over as lead actor. All I'll say is that when you're sat there thinking I wish Shia LaBeouf was back instead, you know something's gone hideously wrong. Then there's just how misguided the film is in what it believes to be it's strongest assets. With Kelsey Grammer having ordered the extermination of the Transformers, he has enlisted the help of a rogue Transformer, Lockdown, who holds allegiance to neither the good guys or the bad guys. The rogue bot is voiced by Mark Ryan and he actually borders on awesome, with real malevolence and menace adorning his every word. It's not subtle, but it kind of works. The character, however, gets frequently sidelined in favour of the story concerning a new enemy named Galvatron. Bay so desperately wants us to accept Galvatron as the film's chief nemesis, despite the fact that he's nowhere near as interesting. With that plot being sidelined, it also means that Grammer often gets ignored in favour of Stanley Tucci. Now, I love Stanley Tucci as an actor and respect him for the fact that he will always give his all, when the film itself is perhaps underserving of his talents. Here though, Grammer is definitely the better option and his lack of appearances as the film progresses means that this gets lessened. Another issue lies in the use of the Dinobots, one of the film's biggest selling points, but they're barely in it and still manage to outstay their welcome despite the briefness of their appearance. Transformers: Age Of Extinction is not Revenge Of The Fallen, but it's just so grotesquely dull and passes without anything close to a reason to care. Like a moderate fart, it's unpleasant and unwanted but, by the end of the day, you'll have forgotten all about it.

ONE out of five 

Next Time (29th January)

When Tarantino Took Over The 90's

Partial Education Presents

When Tarantino Took Over The 90's

Featuring Partially Educated Reviews of

Reservoir Dogs

True Romance

Pulp Fiction

Four Rooms

and Jackie Brown

I've often felt that Tarantino (particularly in his later career) has a habit of going on a bit, so in the interest of not being a hypocrite, let's just get on with it.

Caution: Reviews may contain frequent examples of me going on a bit.

In 1957, Sidney Lumet proved that having a group of men talking in a room for the entire duration of a film could still captivate the film audience and the magnificent 12 Angry Men was the result. Move forward to 1992 and Tarantino is doing just about the same, only mixing it up with the odd chase and some hefty doses of violence. You don't (or shouldn't) need me to tell you how great Reservoir Dogs is, but I'm going to do it anyway. Following a robbery gone wrong, the culprits which haven't died congregate in an abandoned warehouse where they not only have to decide what to do next, but also need to deal with the fact that one of their party has a bullet hole in his gut. Contrary to popular belief, Tarantino's favourite trick is not to drown his films in violence, but to prioritise giving his characters plenty to talk about and then place the violence around that. This doesn't work in some of his films, but Reservoir Dogs demonstrates why it's always worth giving it a chance. There's as much bang on wit as there is blood pouring from Tim Roth's expiring carcass and this is all laced with enough tension to keep you invested. The acting is mostly fantastic (Tarantino's dodgy, but he gives himself little to do and becomes less of an issue) and each character feels independently crafted to help them all become memorable. Technically, they're all villains, but some are more villainous than others, meaning that there isn't just that feeling of a few men trying to avoid a deserved comeuppance. Instead, their different levels of moral wobbling means that they're all forced to determine how far they're willing to take things, allowing the audience to still take a side when Michael Madsen goes psychotic. The beauty of Reservoir Dogs lies in it's simplicity and it's that side of things that can often be lacking from his films today. So, basically, if you've accidentally just watched Death Proof, you can always rest in the knowledge that Reservoir Dogs is there to take away the bad taste.

FIVE out of five

To date, there are only two films that Tarantino has written and allowed others to direct. One is the solid From Dusk Till Dawn, but True Romance is definitely one of the best things to ever spawn itself from the man's pen. Though the title isn't totally misleading, this is a romance existing around carnage, drugs and a whole host of shady people. Clarence (Christian Slater) and Alabama (Patricia Arquette) meet and instantly fall in love, accentuated by Clarence's killing of Alabama's abusive pimp (Gary Oldman in one of many roles that are as brief as they are excellent). Now on the run with a metric crap load of cocaine, the two seek to make the fortune that will allow them to live their dream life, more than happy to accept the depths they must plumb in order to get there. Like a lot of Tarantino's work, this is a film that flows from character to character, with each chapter (so to speak) usually being highlighted by the departure of one person and arrival of another. This means that where most of the actors only get one or two scenes in which they can shine, our two leads are the only ones that stick around for the duration. In other films, an approach like this can be a problem, but the movements between each location and character flow naturally and cohesively. With each actor having that one moment to impress, it means that the performances feel focussed and demanding of your attention. This is none more evident than in what is one of Tarantino's greatest moments; Christopher Walken making his way into proceedings with a scene that's every bit as menacing as it is funny. Both actors that are involved in this part play it at their absolute best, but I won't name the other one for fear of spoiling it. If anything, these great performances serve to overshadow Slater and Arquette a little bit, but though they don't get that big scene which serves as their moment to shine, they provide the one common thread in their own quest. Crucially, their relationship feels real and, despite the actions they're taking, they instil that desire in the audience to see them get their happy ending. Tony Scott's style as director is also a huge asset to the film, with his typical faster pace coming into effect when necessary, but he allows himself to slow down and frame the conversations as befitting (if anything, they feel like scenes Tarantino would have directed himself). The combination of Scott and Tarantino is in fact so good that it's a shame they didn't do more together, as True Romance cancels out just about all of their shortcomings and brings out their mutual strengths. It could have been a glorious partnership, but instead, we'll just have to live with the one shining example.

FIVE out of five

When reviewing an undeniably classic film, it can be very hard to not sound negative if giving that film anything less than a perfect score. So, in a break from tradition, let me give the what before the why. Here's the score:

FOUR out of five

And here's why. As far as I'm concerned, a score of four means that I really like the film and I want to stress the really. It also means that if someone asked me whether they should watch it, I wouldn't hesitate in saying yes, unless I knew that person hated that sort of film. On that basis, I have no issues with the fact that many people adore Pulp Fiction and hold it as one of the greatest films of all time. For me to give a film five out of five though, I have to be able to come out of it and say there was next to nothing wrong with it. It also has to have that special spark that fully resonates with me and leaves me feeling like I could put it on and watch it again immediately. It's that last bit that I don't get with Pulp Fiction. The film contains almost entirely excellent performances, a top notch script and some of the most wickedly sleazy, but always funny, humour out there. It even holds one of my favourite sections of film ever, namely Bruce Willis at his absolute best, in a story that may earn the film it's 18 certificate in the space of one 5-10 minute scene, but is just so utterly bonkers that you can't help but go with it. On occasion though, the film marks the start of Tarantino's forays into a self indulgence that would lead to him creating some pretty average work and eventually bring us inferior work. It's not just in Tarantino's insistence on giving himself a supporting role, despite being one of only two people (the other's Robert Rodriguez) who actually believes he has an iota of acting talent. He allows scenes to go on too long on occasion, not to the point that they completely stagnate, but just to the point where I was glad to see the back of them. That said, Pulp Fiction is a film that almost everyone should see (if you're a prude about violence or swearing, then either get over it, or don't bother) and a film that any moderate to strong film fan should have already seen. As for that debate over whether it should have won the Best Picture Oscar, it shouldn't have, but neither should have Forrest Gump. There's a certain film about some building called Shawshank.

I'm quite glad for Four Rooms actually, because it's the sort of film that really trivialises my issues with Pulp Fiction and makes me realise just how unimportant they are when, in the long run, I've still at least enjoyed the film. See, for everything that Pulp Fiction gets right, Four Rooms gets something wrong. Then, for everything that Pulp Fiction perhaps gets wrong (though I feel that word may be a little strong), Four Rooms also gets it wrong. Tim Roth's hotel bellboy, Ted, goes about his business on New Year's Eve, but keeps finding himself in rooms (four of them, believe it or not) in which weird or nefarious (usually both) deeds are occurring. The best way to review this is probably to do it one story at a time, but instead of doing it in order of appearance, I'm going to do it from least to most weird.

1) A jealous husband suspects his wife of cheating on him with Ted and so holds him at gunpoint. Alexandre Rockwell goes for a simple concept that could work well for farce and then flubs it. The script is painful, the acting shoddy and wooden and it's never good when you're wishing the guy with a gun would just blow everyone's head off and then his own. As a result, it's the second best of the shorts.

2) Robert Rodriguez directs Antonio Banderas as a shady rich bloke who enlists Ted to babysit his children. Both children are naturally nightmares and also attribute the horrible smell in the room to each other's feet. It's the best one on offer, mainly because the two young performances from Lana McKissack and Danny Verduzco are fairly spirited and lift the whole thing. I still don't remember laughing though.

3) This is where we tip the scales into more ridiculous territory, as a group of directors enlist Ted's help in ensuring a bet is settled. The problems with this segment are threefold. The first is simple, it's far too long. The second: it gets more and more stupid as it goes along, but not in a controlled, humorous Fawlty Towers kind of way. Instead, it's in a self-serving-oh-wouldn't-you-know-it-Tarantino-wrote-it kind of way. The final problem: Tarantino is also acting in it, FOR THE WHOLE SEGMENT!!!!! Made worse by the fact that in the first and worst segment, we've already endured the acting of…

4) …Madonna! Furthermore, this segment revolves around witches hunting for sperm. I mean, do you need me to continue?

That's what Four Rooms has to offer you. The anchor is obviously Roth, who inhabits all four stories, with a performance that's so unrestrained and loopy that it at least alleviates some of the pain of what's going on around him. Though, really, even his performance is pretty crap.

ONE out of five

This is the film that I've heard a lot of people point to as Tarantino's best film. Only it's not. By any stretch. Paying homage to the blaxploitation films of old, Jackie Brown follows it's air stewardess title character as she unwittingly makes herself the transporter for a drug deal. With no real other options, she is made to work with the police to bring down the dealers. This is a world in which everyone is trying to screw over everyone else, so the real story is going to be hidden behind about twenty fake ones and that's where the films biggest problem lies. Despite a solid script from Tarantino, the film's multiple attempts to hide what's going on don't work and the whole thing is nothing if not predictable. So much so, that it makes it all a little uninteresting, as there just isn't a whole lot to get excited about. Pam Grier is pretty good in the role of Jackie, but while it may go down as an great comeback performance, it's never going to be mentioned without that word comeback getting involved. There's a few neat moments here and there and the three-way perspective denouement is particularly well done. Ultimately though, there's far too much concern with the film appearing cool. It's successful in that respect, but that doesn't prevent it from being boring more often than it should be. That's all I can really think to say about Jackie Brown to be honest. It is far from Tarantino at his worst and the film is mostly good enough. If that's not damning with faint praise though, nothing ever will be.

THREE out of five

The Bonus Review

These are going to become a semi-regular (in that I'm not guaranteeing them every week and have no idea about regularity) feature now because, quite frankly, there are certain times when I'll want (or need) to review a film but either can't think of a topic or just have other topics that are being prioritised. It also means I can drill out reviews of the newest films without having to cobble together a full article around it, which is convenient because…

Michael Keaton is an actor who I have always admired. It helps that he played one of my favourite characters of all time in Beetlejuice, but there's more to it than that. Despite all the crap films that have been thrown at him since he stepped down from the role of Batman, he's never gone out and moaned, never started delivering bad performances by way of protest and he's always seemed like a consummate professional. Mercifully then, some 20 years later, the man has found a role that pushes him back into the spotlight for all the right reasons. It helps that the film is every bit as great as he is. Keaton plays Riggan Thomson, an actor known best for his role as Birdman, now attempting to prove to the world that he is more than just that character, by putting on a Broadway production of Raymond Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. The fact that the character has that resonance with Keaton's own career isn't as much of a problem as it could have been. The risk was that this was going to feel a bit Tarantino, sorry, self indulgent; but the film feels more reflective, with Keaton using his own past to bring an understanding to that of Riggan's plight. It's also true that Keaton's own fading from the spotlight never really reached the depths that Riggan's has and so it's fairly easy to differ the two. Keaton's performance is far and away the best thing about the film, but that becomes even more of a complement when considering how everyone else pretty much nails it as well. All the supporting performances are pretty top notch, meaning that singling out would be unfair. Suffice to say, all the acting nominations are deserved and many more should be forthcoming. Behind the camera lies just as much brilliance. Writer-director Alejandro González Iñárritu presents what might well be his most focussed package, presenting the story in a much simpler way than the likes of 21 Grams and Babel. No disrespect to those films, but this works much better without the sometimes unnecessary multiple strand angle of those films. Emmanuel Lubezki follows his award winning cinematography work on Gravity with proof that he deserves those awards a second time around. If you haven't heard about the very important way that this film is shot, then I won't spoil it for you, but the way it's done is sublime. Then there's everyone else. At the end of the film, there's this thing where everyone's name goes from the bottom of the screen to the top and frankly everyone's name on that list deserves mentioning, but that would make for one hell of a boring review. Birdman kicks off 2015 and if the end of the year sees Birdman ranking outside of the year's best films, then we've had an almighty good year.

FIVE out of five

Next Time (January 15th)

The Mandatory Review