The Heat

 A Partially Educated Review of The Heat

In which Sandra Bullock stars in a decent comedy and yet we are not in a parallel universe

Winning the Oscar for Best Actress can often be a curse. Natalie Portman followed her win with No Strings Attached and Your Highness. Halle Berry embarked on an odyssey of crap with Gothika, Catwoman and Perfect Stranger. Hilary Swank won twice, but has hardly capitalised on it and then there's Reese Witherspoon who, well, continued doing what Reese Witherspoon always does. Some irony then, that one of the people who has managed to survive is Sandra Bullock, who, prior to her win for The Blind Side, wasn't exactly known for the quality of her past work. While she may be getting most of her recent attention as a result of Gravity, she's also managed to transition back into comedy with The Heat. The miracle is that she's managed to find a genuinely decent one.

Bullock plays by-the-book FBI agent Sarah Ashburn, currently investigating mysterious drug kingpin Simon Larkin. Her investigation leads her to cross paths with Shannon Mullins (Melissa McCarthy), who is anything but by-the-book. With both wanting to try and get the arrest of Larkin on their records, they find themselves having to help each other, leading to what is officially the fifteen millionth pairing of at-odds police officers in cinematic history. So, the plot's not really anything new, but this doesn't need to be a concern if the jokes are funny and, for the most part, they are.

A common, and often valid, complaint with modern comedies is that they're too long, commonly referred to as "Judd Apatow syndrome" or "James Boothman reviews syndrome". It's become even more of a problem in the last few years with comedies averaging nearer 2 hours, when a lot could do with a good half hour shaving from that (if not more). Another problem, specific to buddy cop comedies, is that all the funny bits come from conflict between the two of them, meaning that if or when that conflict disappears, so too do the competent jokes. It has to be said that The Heat comes as close to avoiding both of those hazards as you could hope. Ashburn and Mullins are oddities and this is used to emphasise the comedy. Any bonds they form aren't through a mentality of there being anything wrong with being an oddity, but instead through a mutual respect for each other's quirkier aspects. As a result, laughs are able to be evenly produced through both conflict and friendship, but instead of being in a mean-spirited "let's laugh at the freaks" kind of way, it comes more from sympathetic embarrassment on the audience's part.

It's also willing to change things up a little bit. The major difference is that, instead of displaying the usual ineptitude, both Ashburn and Mullins are good at their jobs and get their results. They're failing to proceed up the ladder due to various circumstances. Ashburn, while staunchly professional, is arrogant and physically incapable of working with anyone else. Mullins, on the other hand, has some interesting methods to get her results including, but not limited to, playing Russian Roulette with a male suspect's unmentionables. You may be expecting the feminist card to get played, but it's actually rarely pulled. Any grievances that their male counterparts have with them are, for the most part, justified, but their problems lie in the fact that it blinds them to the positives that both characters have. It would have been nice to see a few more well-rounded characters than just the two of them and pretty much all of the male characters feel like stock. However, let's not try and pretend it's the men who are usually getting the short straw when it comes to decent parts in films.

With the presence of both McCarthy and director Paul Feig, standards are set high as a direct result of their involvement in Bridesmaids, regardless of my own opinions on that film (it's overrated). However, to compare the two seems moderately pointless to me as the only real similarity between them is that they're both comedies and, on that basis, you might as well start comparing it to Scary Movie 5. If you liked Bridesmaids, you may like The Heat just as much, you may hate it or, if you're weird like me, you may think it's better. For me, the scale of recent cop comedies has 21 Jump Street at the top and The Other Guys way, way down at the bottom. 21 Jump Street made me literally laugh till it hurt and The Heat doesn't quite reach that level, but it comes closer than any other recent release that I can think of.

FOUR out of five

An Announcement (NO! I'm not ending the blog!)

First things first, thank you to anyone who has taken the time to read one of my reviews. I honestly expected hits to be in single figures for the blog. Suffice to say, they're not.

Particularly, thank you to anyone who has given me feedback. Some has been private, some has been done through other websites where I post my reviews. Wherever it's come from, I'm grateful for it and I'm happy to say that most of it has been positive.

There has, however, been one gripe and it's one I'm paying attention to, namely that the reviews are so long it puts some people off from reading them. I am happy to accept that this is probably me straying into self-indulgence.

So, from now on, reviews will be shorter. If you want to hear me elaborate, simply talk to me. But be warned, if you ask me to elaborate, I won't hesitate to oblige.

In addition, if you feel like providing any feedback, please do. It will be noted, appreciated and genuinely considered. Most seem to like this doing this in private, which is fine. You can leave comments below, or send any to partiallyeducated@gmail.com

Also, if you're interested in reviewing for the blog, please get in touch with me via e-mail. I won't be taking people on as regular writers at the moment, but will happily post up guest reviews.

Only God Forgives

A Partially Educated Review of Only God Forgives

In which I don't know if God would feel a need to forgive, more than just go "Meh"

Self-belief good, pretentiousness bad. It's a simple rule, but it's not always the easiest to follow. Self-belief leads to ambition, which, if not handled properly, leads to pretension and sometime it's possible to get there without even realising it. I live in the belief that, at some point, I'll probably stray into that territory in one of my reviews without realising it. For all I know, I already have. What I do know though is Nicolas Winding Refn is definitely capable of it. A recent BBC interview was opened with the question: "When did you fall in love with film?". His response (and I'm paraphrasing here, as I was unable to find a video to re-watch the interview) was "I would say that film fell in love with me." Interesting, thought I. Then I pondered on that statement only to realise that it was one of the most egregious examples of self-service since earlier in the year when Tarantino declared (and I'm not paraphrasing here) "I am responsible for people talking about slavery in America in a way that they have not in 30 years".

And 12 months later, Steve McQueen is responsible for showing the world that Django Unchained is nowhere near as good as people first thought.

I appreciate this is setting things up for a complete drubbing as far as Only God Forgives is concerned. Indeed, I wouldn't be alone as it's one of, if not the most polarising film of last year, as far as reception from fans and critics alike is concerned. In addition, the film's, at times overbearing, pretentiousness would usually leave me completely put off. So why then, do I feel a resounding sense of indifference to it?

Ryan Gosling plays Julian, an American drug-smuggler living in Thailand. His older brother, Billy (Tom Burke), is murdered by the father of an underage prostitute that Billy himself raped and then murdered. This leads to Julian being ordered by his mother Crystal (Kristin Scott Thomas) to return the favour, not only against Billy's murderer, but also the police who allowed the murder to happen. So far, so standard revenge thriller, but this, to his credit, is something that Winding Refn (here serving as both director and writer) would never allow to happen. He acknowledges the basic and overused revenge plot and then puts in his own stylistic touches to try and create something different. At times this works, at others it doesn't.

To it's credit, the film looks and sounds amazing. Everything from lighting and sound design to the cinematography work together to create a generally nasty feel to the film. This is oppressive in it's nature and the dim, seedy atmosphere remains present for the duration, only briefly letting up when the characters walk into areas they are yet to contaminate. The sound is dark and moody, relying far more on short, deep flourishes than it does on full pieces of music. This suits it far better than when music plays a bigger part; a critical fight scene has the brutality sadly undersold by the same music that's at the start of the trailer playing over it. 

While this nastiness is perfectly suited to Only God Forgives, it also manages to simultaneously create flaws, predominantly in the lack of a real human element. It's not that the characters aren't in the slightest bit likeable because there are twinges of humanity in Gosling. I emphasise twinges. The problem is that anything that may let you relate to the character is crude and sandwiched into situations that are partially his creation. As he watches a lady place her fingers within herself for his own enjoyment, tears being to fill his eyes. Any regret this may demonstrate is negated by the fact that he's still making her do it.

It's also impossible to see the remotest justification in his quest for revenge because he is avenging the murder of a paedophile, by murdering the murderers. It's not that the film isn't aware of this, it's fully aware of it and rarely seems like it's trying to say otherwise. The problem with this is that, in the end, it's all rendered a little predictable. Any doubts that you may have will be because it's a Winding Refn film and the expectation is that he will shake things up a little bit. As far as plot goes, he doesn't.

While Only God Forgives is a wordy film by Winding Refn's own standards, it isn't by general standards. When dialogue is used, it's used because it's essential rather than because they worried that people will get bored. In addition, he adopts an acid-trip style of presentation, complete with his viewing Julian's own hallucinations with him. Where it works, it works very well, but sometimes it feels recycled. There are images here that you will have seen before and some even border on clichéd (blood pouring from a tap, an endlessly expanding corridor). Whether you loved or hated his previous films (and God did I hate Valhalla Rising), you could never try and say that they were like anything you had seen before. Not so with Only God Forgives. While it's true that no one else makes films like Winding Refn does, he has made enough films for his style to become familiar and feel far too similar to his past work. The freshness is beginning to wear off.

For the performances, it all feels a little par for the course. Ryan Gosling smoulders… a lot. His eyes have the coldness that they demonstrated in Drive and, yes, he may have the looks to make the girls swoon, but it's all starting to feel a little bit samey. Personality is slowly leaving him to the point where Keanu Reeves may soon be suing him for trademark infringement. Meanwhile, Vithaya Pansringarm takes on the chief antagonist role, seemingly having come from out of nowhere other than The Prince And Me 4 and a brief part in The Hangover 2. Unfortunately, Pansringarm is given little to do other than look mean, chop people's arms off and sing karaoke. Not that we're stereotyping here.

Praise her parents then for the exception to the rule that is Kristin Scott Thomas, delivering a fantastic and, for her, completely unique performance that completely and very much metaphorically (definitely not literally) lights the film up whenever she's around. With an incredibly twisted sense of honour and equally messed up opinions on who's bringing that honour to her family (that would be the paedophile son again), Crystal is the very personification of evil. What Lady Macbeth was to her husband, Crystal is to her sons, seemingly displaying the same knowledge of their bedroom-bound assets. With her strengths and weaknesses on full show, Crystal feels like the only character who is vaguely human in the most repugnant and entirely unrelateable sense of the word. Whilst it helps that Winding Refn is blatantly in love with her and thus makes sure she's the best-written character, without Scott Thomas' performance that would be all for nought.

Then, we have the violence and this brings us back to Mr Tarantino as he and Winding Refn have both had hefty portions of their career defined by the use of extreme violence. However, as far as Windng Refn is concerned, he makes Tarantino look like Richard Curtis. The critical difference is in reality. The cartoonish style that Tarantino often displays is entirely shunned by Winding Refn as everything he presents feels painfully and horrifically real. This has a torture scene that owes a debt to Reservoir Dogs, but, for outright grimness, surpasses it in every way. That's not necessarily to say it's a better approach, as both of their methods usually achieve their intentions. Personally, I'm more inclined to hearing it, rather than seeing it as the imagination will often conjure up images far worse than anything that the film would ever show. However, if success is based on effectiveness, then it works here.

I started Only God Forgives, fully expecting to follow it with a passionate review. It seemed like the sort of film where I'd want to commemorate it on my wall. I'd either frame it in a beautiful antique golden shrine or fire a nail-gun through the disc, ensuring that it would never sully my screen again. Instead, it's just not bad. It's perfectly watchable and, for the most part, was entirely competent at holding my attention. There are moments of absolute brilliance, but these are balanced out by moments of lesser quality. In the end though, Only God Forgives' critical problem is that it is it's own biggest fan, to the point where I'm not sure anyone could ever like it as much as it likes itself.

THREE out of five

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

A Partially Educated Review of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

In which I see that fire, and piss on it a little bit.

We no longer live in a world where the law of diminishing returns can be instantly applicable to film sequels. Since comic book adaptations developed the habit of producing second instalments superior to the original, worry has instead fallen upon the third part of a film series, as, more often than not, this is where stagnation and declining quality tend to be a factor. Recently though, there have been a number of disappointing second instalments. Thor: The Dark World wasn't awful, but it wasn't a patch on the original. Kick-Ass 2 received a barrage of hatred from many, although I hasten to add that I felt this was grossly undeserved. That's not to say it's all gone to hell. Star Trek Into Darkness managed to keep the flag flying for the superior second instalment, but it's not so much guaranteed now. A change in director is something that can often signal this decline in quality and that is exactly what The Hunger Games series faced with Catching Fire. Now obviously, Catching Fire has been a success, both critically and financially. For me to pretend otherwise would be foolish and deluded. Equally though, for me to say that I am in agreement with that praise would be a lie. Catching Fire is decent and, as a result, disappointing that it's not excellent.

With Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) having been declared joint winners of the previous Hunger Games, they face a Victor's Tour round all the other districts, where they're supposed to smile and wave to the relatives of the people who died so they could survive. It's a cheerful affair. Forced to keep up the façade of their relationship for the purposes of publicity, Katniss has also managed to become a symbol of hope and rebellion for the other Districts. In the eyes of President Snow (Donald Sutherland), this makes her Public Enemy Number One. Convenient for him then, that The Hunger Games are about to have their 75th Anniversary, it's third Quarter Quell, in which tradition dictates they do something a little different. Seizing his opportunity, Snow declares that they will mark this by having a Hunger Games comprised entirely of former victors, guaranteeing Katniss' involvement, due to her status as the only former female winner from District 12.

Catching Fire sees Francis Lawrence taking over as director, as he will for the final two instalments. Lawrence's career has been fairly mixed, ranging from the downright awful I Am Legend to Water For Elephants, a film far better than Robert Pattinson's lead performance indicated. For a man who began his career directing music videos, things could have been a lot worse. When considering the sterling track record of previous director Gary Ross though, Lawrence pales in comparison. Here, he has one huge advantage as he's working with a host of brilliant actors. Jennifer Lawrence's star has risen considerably in the short time that has passed between this and the previous instalment, while the reliable hands of Stanley Tucci and Woody Harrelson also make their return. His real ace-in-the-hole though is the addition of Philip Seymour Hoffman as a Plutarch Heavensbee, a character that achieves the seemingly impossible, by out-ridiculousing (it's a word) the already strong competition for daftest character name in the series. It appears Lawrence knows that he's struck lucky with this cast and his direction reflects this: keeping things simple and very much focussed on them. There's no rushed cutting to scenes of explosions and desolation, out of some ill-found and incorrect fear that the audience will lose interest. There's also no "Michael Bay arse shots", despite having many prime contenders for providing him with those. Instead, he has remained faithful to the style that was set up in the first instalment, but has somehow made this feel even more character-driven. For the most part, that's a good thing.

For starters, Jennifer Lawrence absolutely nails her performance, moreso than in the first film, able to appear strong when necessary, without betraying the emotional scars that Katniss now has to bear. Thankfully, there's been no asinine complaints over Lawrence not looking malnourished enough this time around. Donald Sutherland also produces one of his best performances in years. Since the first film, President Snow has developed from an unlikeable symbol of the repression of the lower classes into a fully fledged monster. He is hateful in every way that a character like this should be, but fearsome in his willingness to confront his issues head-on. An early meeting between him and Katniss is rife with tension as you wish for Katniss to end him and hate him even more as he rests in the comfortable knowledge that that is the last thing she can do. He is a villain, through and through. The most frightening aspect of him is that he is a believable one.

The real surprise, however, comes in the form of Josh Hutcherson. He wasn't exactly weak before, just a bit unmemorable. Here, he demands your attention, as though he's realised that he's acting opposite Hollywood's favourite new star and ups his game accordingly. The effects of the first Hunger Games have matured Peeta, but he is now facing the brutal realisation that Katniss' affections may merely be for show. Instead of this making him look weak, it does the exact opposite. Peeta brings your sympathies straight to him, by refusing to mope over the undesirable situation he has found himself in, instead doing what he can to make sure that a bad situation will hurt him as little as possible. This is achieved in a performance by Hutcherson that could hopefully ensure he's able to keep his popularity going beyond the series. While he portrays an obvious sadness and disappointment well, he also conveys a believable inner strength that avoids the stock jilted lover template. Unfortunately, through no fault of his own, he's also a major part of one the film's weaker elements.

The reason why Katniss is not with Peeta is because of her attraction to Liam Hemsworth's Gale, hence the dreaded love triangle unfolding before our very eyes. While her mouth says her heart lies with Gale, her eyes suggest otherwise. This element works, mainly due to Jennifer Lawrence being more than capable of handling this through simple facial expressions, rather than awkward exposition. The problems with the triangle begin with Liam and end with Hemsworth. To call Gale wet is to render the Atlantic dry by comparison. In a persistent state of self-pity over how unfair it all is, there's nothing about the character that makes you see why Katniss would ever like him more than Peeta. As a result, the love triangle doesn't work because the film wants you to believe in the possibility that Katniss has affections for both. No amount of puppy dog eyes from Hemsworth can do anything to change that. He had next to nothing to do in the first film, leaving the character feeling undeveloped. Now we've had that development, I'm wishing they hadn't bothered.

Sadly, under-development does rear it's head in a really disappointing way, namely Stanley Tucci's Caesar Flickerman, one of the original's best characters. The annoying thing is that he just picks up where he left off and then stays there. There is nothing new about Flickerman and anything that he does is something that he has done before. I couldn't help but feel like they were squandering the chance to show Flickerman outside of his television persona. It's at this point that the necessity for full disclosure rears it's head. My knowledge of The Hunger Games series practically defines partially educated. I have never read the books and have only the first film to act as the extent of my knowledge in this series. Like further development of Caesar, many of the things that I felt would and, in some cases, should have happened feel like they're being saved for the final two films, leading me on to my next issue. Catching Fire doesn't half feel like a stop-gap.

As soon as the trailers arrived for Catching Fire, I started feeling worried. Again, having not read the books probably served as my downfall here, but the notion of Katniss being involved in another Hunger Games felt worrying to me, even if the stakes were raised and the way in which she enters them feels credible. The first film was unfairly criticised by some for being too similar to Battle Royale. No film though wants to be compared to Battle Royale 2 and that is what I felt was at risk here. Stagnation does happen to a degree, although it's not quite as bad as it could have been. It's helped by the arena in which the games take place. Without giving anything away, the arena is a true high concept, a dangerous strategy that pays off by helping make the games feel different and provides the characters with a completely different aim to just killing each other. It's not quite explored as much as I would like, but this is because they take their time in getting to the games and, to be honest, the stuff that comes before is much more interesting. The biggest problem though is an accentuation of one of the original's. With 24 competitors in the games, it would be a nigh on impossible task to properly develop each one's characters, but, in developing the essential ones, they don't even try to give the others anything remotely resembling a personality. A hefty proportion don't even get a name, turning them into disposable entities on the level of a teenager in a dark, secluded house.

The Hunger Games left things set up perfectly. It was apparent where everything was going and this left huge anticipation for the next film. Catching Fire simply kills time while we await this climax, leaving us in the exact same place as the first one did, with little development, bar a rushed final 5-10 minutes which attempt to up the ante. In a weird way though, they leave it all feeling a bit anti-climactic. I'm both excited and nervous for Mockingjay. It's definitely going to present the story that I was hoping Catching Fire would present some of and I'm really looking forward to seeing that. On the flip-side, I've heard from a number of sources that the book is nowhere near as good as the first two, leaving me to wonder whether I should get on with reading the books in an attempt to suppress any potential disappointment. On it's own merits, Catching Fire would have been an excellent film, with some fantastic performances. It's following The Hunger Games though, a film which managed to break free from the shackles of being "the new Twilight" and prove that sparkling vampires don't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath. While the performances are unaffected by this, Catching Fire does feel like a diminished return.

THREE out of five

Inside Llewyn Davis

A Partially Educated Review of Inside Llewyn Davis

In which the Coen Brothers do something different, even for them.

I hate cats. Not in a "throw them in the bin" kind of way. Nor in a "set the dog on them" kind of way, although that wouldn't be successful anyway, as my dog's scared of cats. No, instead my dislike comes from how damned high and mighty they are, strutting around the place like you should drop to your knees in reverential cries of unworthiness, while actions to the contrary result in a death stare comparable to Putin's at a t.A.T.u. reunion. So, a film must be doing something right when it not only makes me like a cat, but also makes me want to take it's side. When you consider that the Coen Brothers gave us an almost (ALMOST!) justifiable shooting of a dog in No Country For Old Men, it could just be them trying to realign karma in their favour. Whatever the reason though, it's worked. A part of me now wants to adopt an abandoned ginger cat.

After releasing three excellent films and Burn After Reading in just four years, the Coen Brothers looked like they might be going a bit Woody Allen as far as regularity of releases went. However, with the exception of writing the script of Gambit, which felt more like a clearance of the brain rot they'd collected over the years à la intolerable Cruelty, things have been relatively quiet in the Coen camp and we've had an almost three-year gap between the releases of True Grit and Inside Llewyn Davis. If a three-year gap results in films like this, then I suggest they take them more frequently, because this is one of the best films the Coens have ever made.

Inside Llewyn Davis follows the titular character, played by Oscar Isaac, living homeless and penniless in New York as he attempts to put his career in the folk scene back on track, following the suicide of his songwriting partner. With little success coming his way and others doubting his ability to succeed, mainly due to his torturous lack of people skills, Davis is also informed of the very real possibility that he's impregnated his friend's wife. What we then follow is a week in Davis' life, as he becomes torn between continuing on the path he wants to, or going in the direction that others think he should.

Despite a couple of blips, you can never call a film by The Coens boring. As a result, I'm always interested to see anything they put out. In this case though, the bulk of my interest laid elsewhere, as I more wanted to see how Oscar Isaac fared in the lead role. Hardly a household name, Isaac's career has, up until this point, consisted of solid performances in not-so-solid films, some well-known (Robin Hood, Sucker Punch), others less so (10 Years). Apparently, he was in Drive, but I don't recall his performance, serving as further proof that I really do need to go back and give that film a repeat viewing. While there was nothing about his previous performances that particularly stood out as great, there was something about him that made me think he may be a better actor than the films he was in would indicate. I just couldn't put my finger on why. Here, he proves it. His performance is, first and foremost, human, operating within the Coens' quirky world, without that overcoming him. In other films, many established actors have delivered a performance that feels more like the Coens than their own. For Isaac, this is firmly his performance. It's in the other actor's that you see the more Coen-esque performances and the downside of this is that they almost entirely serve as background to Isaac's greater accomplishment. Justin Timberlake and Carey Mulligan are both solid, but fail to find that element that will let them linger in your memory. Everything you will remember about this film involves Isaac, who manages to differentiate himself from the others, without becoming separate from the world he inhabits. If your film's going to retain focus on one performance, it's a fine one to choose.

One fantastic performance does not prove you entirely as an actor. That's aimed at you, Sam Riley. It does, however, give you the advantage. An advantage that, if seized properly, can propel you and just about erase any past transgressions. If that sounds too idealistic to be true, look at Matthew McConaughey, a man who only avoided becoming the most annoying screen presence going by persistently wheeling out Kate Hudson as some sort of impenetrable vitriol deflector. Put a lit match next to McConaughey's prior brain-farts and you've got an atom bomb. Put them next to Isaac's and, in comparison, you'll be lucky if the things stays alight. This could the be the kick-start to greater things and, provided the performances stay as strong as this, it's an ascension I would greatly welcome.

Of course, you can't talk about a Coens' film without talking about the script. It's easy to say that a Coens script is excellent and await agreement, because it's a generally accepted fact that the Coens are masterful writers. On a bad day though, the Coens have produced some frankly awful scripts, with the aforementioned Gambit feeling flat-out lazy and Burn After Reading appearing pitifully unaware of how far it was descending into self-parody. I can accept that it must be harder to maintain quality when you've previously hit such dazzling heights as Miller's Crossing and The Big Lebowski, but when the Coens make a bad film, they make an absolute stinker and it's usually the result of a lacklustre script. Not so, here. Not everyone will understand why someone would want to spend their life playing folk music, but that's not the point. Anyone can relate to passion and the desire for that passion to become imbued in your existence. Funny at turns and touching at others, the script manages a deft balance between presenting the world that Davis inhabits and relating that to any member of the audience who doesn't share an immediately apparent common link.

This brings us to awards nominations or, rather, the lack of them. Every year, a film comes out that gets heaps of praise, but then gets all but ignored when it comes to award nominations. Last year it was The Master. The year before that it was Drive and before that it was Inception. This year, it's Inside Llewyn Davis (although, no Oscar nomination for Tom Hanks in Captain Phillips? REALLY?!?). There are more than a handful of great films released every year and so some are inevitably going to get missed out. My problem, however, is that American Hustle has been frequently nominated and Llewyn Davis hasn't, despite deserving it more. Hell, let's be bold. Inside Llewyn Davis deserves a Best Picture nomination more than Gravity does. The nominations have been few, but at least it's been nominated in two areas where it really does deserve it: namely cinematography and sound.

First off, the cinematography, which is beautiful. This is going to sound somewhat hyperbolic, but you'll have to take my word for it. In the club scenes, where most of the shots give us a view from the audience, you actually feel as though the screen isn't there. You are in a club, watching someone perform. I can say this with confidence, because when the song had finished, I very nearly applauded with the on-screen audience, saving myself from embarrassment at the last second when I remembered that I was actually in a fairly packed cinema. The sound is also necessary in creating this feeling. Things are kept very simple here. They don't litter the performances with sounds from the crowd, instead really focussing on the music itself and ensuring that this sounds as good as it possibly could. It must be said that, at times, performances sound closer to studio recordings, rather than live performances and this can be a little distracting but, on a technical level, they've done a masterful job. I don't think it stands the slightest chance of beating Gravity in this area and I don't know that it should, but it's nice to see the recognition in an area where it could have easily been overlooked.

While some of the ticks and twitches often attributable to the Coens are present within the background, this is a film more about one man as an embodiment of human ambition, both when striving to achieve that ambition and when falling into laziness. Davis is far from flawless, a character who makes some very poor and, at times, unlikeable decisions, thus making him all the more human. I heard someone leaving the cinema complain that they thought the film was a bit slow. If that's true, it's only because the realisation of ambition is slow and certainly not something that you could realistically show if your entire movie takes place within the same week. Sometimes, slow can be a compliment, in the same way that simplistic can and both of those could be used in relation to Inside Llewyn Davis. For me though, plain old excellent seems better.

FIVE out of five

American Hustle

A Partially Educated Review of American Hustle

In which THAT cast and THAT script almost create something phenomenal

It's amazing how the slight manipulation of a simple phrase can create such a huge difference. Every time I sit down to watch a film where the first words I see are "based on a true story", I let out a despairing sigh and usually spend the duration wondering how much they are leaning on the word 'based'. American Hustle almost falls into this trap, but by changing the wording to "some of this is true", it completely alleviates the issue. By turning the phrase into an open admission that liberties have been taken with the story, it removes any pretension. It no longer feels like a marketing ploy. Instead, it feels like the film is focussing far more on telling a story, than it is on desperate attempts to provide levity to the events that are about to unfold. In addition, it also helps to stop people from citing every moment as gospel truth, as it makes it clear that some of this is fiction. It's all the more enjoyable for it.

My opinions on David O. Russell's previous films have been, shall we say, lukewarm. While I haven't seen all of them, I have been mostly underwhelmed by the ones that I have seen. I really don't like Three Kings, although I'm fully aware that I'm in the minority there. As for Silver Linings Playbook, I just found it to be a bit dull, saved mainly by Bradley Cooper's excellent performance and the film's miraculous achievement of somehow making Chris Tucker not annoying. Yes, Jennifer Lawrence was excellent too, but I do feel she unjustly overshadowed Cooper. The only two things that make me keep trying Russell's films are The Fighter, which I absolutely loved, and the fact that the stories he decides to take on always intrigue me. I'm glad of that, as this led me to give American Hustle a go.

Christian Bale and Amy Adams play con artists (and extra-marital lovers) Irving Rosenfeld and Sydney Prosser. While their scams are successful, they eventually get caught by Bradley Cooper's FBI agent Richie Di Maso. Hardly squeaky-clean and very much promotion driven, Di Maso sees Rosenfeld and Prosser's excellence in their field and decides to blackmail them into helping him achieve more arrests on his record. Despite some reluctancy, Rosenfeld and Prosser have no choice and are forced to give in to Di Maso's demands. Their scam, involving a fake Sheikh, leads them to Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), the mayor of Camden, where they set about exposing corruption in various politicians, despite the fairly shady motives on their own part.

With the exception of Renner, the cast is a bit of an amalgamation of both The Fighter and Silver Linings Playbook, with Bale and Adams coming from the former, while Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence (as Bale's slightly crazy, but by no means foolish, wife) continue on from Playbook. He is pretty much pulling in the greatest successes of his last two films to create what is an absolutely blinding cast. You've got to imagine the only reason Melissa Leo's not here is because there's not really a part for her. Without exception, the performances are fantastic. For most of them, it's a given that they're going to be great. Find me an awful Bale, Adams or Lawrence performance and I'll negate it with at least three phenomenal ones. 

Andy Kaufman fans may need a moment to get over Bale's striking resemblance to Tony Clifton, but this is easily one of his best performances. I've always been a huge fan of his, but have recently found the overly serious roles he takes on to get slightly wearing and, in a few cases, dangerously close to feeling samey. Here, he not only delivers a performance unlike any of his that I can think of, but also properly adds a new string to his bow as he demonstrates effortless comic timing, embracing deadpan hilarity with such great aplomb that Tommy Lee Jones may be feeling a bit threatened. Adams demonstrates an amazing ability to create a believably wavering accent as she masquerades as fake British royalty, Lady Edith Greensley. The small flaws in her British accent feel purposeful, as though they are errors committed by the character, rather than Adams. In one fantastic scene, there's, what appeared to be, a skilful blend when she speaks in her American accent, but keeps falling back into the British. It's as though the character is starting to believe that her real personality is that of Greensley and the lines between that and her real self are more than a little blurred. It's also good to see her with a fleshed-out character after her outright bland performance as Lois Lane. If you're still clinging on to Adams as Giselle, you may want to stay away too. Sydney Prosser is anything but sweetness and light. Lawrence, meanwhile, continues to develop more and more maturity to her roles, impressive when you consider that her previous roles were hardly lacking in that department. My concerns that it became apparent they weren't going to acknowledge the 16-year age gap between Lawrence and Bale were soon proven to be slightly idiotic on my part. It both doesn't and shouldn't matter. They are a fighting couple who manage to show dispute and mutual affection at the same time, something that doesn't often come across. Most of the time, actors would just present screaming followed by affection, with any blend between the two being impossible to discern. Lawrence and Bale feel like a real couple, going through real issues. When they're on screen together, you have some of the film's strongest moments.

The acting revelations though are Cooper and Renner. Cooper has managed to banish any possibilities of The Hangover series being his entire legacy and he's done it in less than a year. If you'd asked me to bank on that two years ago, I would have laughed in your face and told you that Ed Helms stood the strongest chance of doing that. Last I checked, I'm dead wrong on that, with Helms' only solace currently being that he doesn't have to call himself Zach Galifianakis. Is Cooper's performance entirely different from anything he's done before? No. The character's going through dual personality issues similar to those that he had in Silver Linings. Instead, what Cooper is doing is falling back on things that have succeeded for him in the past, but then developing them, instead of resting on his laurels. What excites me about Cooper is that I feel he's only going to develop as time progresses and the next time he's in cinemas, I will be genuinely interested to see if he can continue on what could be an ascent to great things. Although, if they don't get their act together with releasing Serena, his next film will probably be Guardians Of The Galaxy, when I'll be more interested in seeing if James Gunn is capable of making something that isn't awful. Renner, on the other hand, has achieved a minor miracle in making me care about something that he has done. Until now, Renner has been leeching off the fact that he was in The Hurt Locker and gone from there to bring an aura of dullness to anything else that he's starred in. Finally though, I may be starting to see what others see in him. His performance here is not perfect, veering a little close to overacting at times. Critically though, it's never dull. He doesn't take anything away from any of the scenes he's in and, on occasions, becomes their strongest asset, avoiding the corrupt politician stereotype to the point where you can even feel sympathies towards him.

As great as the performances are, they're only 50% of the film's success. The other 50% is the script, or, more accurately, the lines. Put bluntly, I would sell my soul to be able to write lines as good as this. It's intelligent without feeling like it's considering itself above it's audience. Also, the comic timing demonstrated by the actors is only going to be of benefit if the lines themselves are funny and, on a number of occasions, I genuinely laughed out loud, instead of the internal uncharitable laughter that I am often prone to. With that in mind, the script also contributes to a nagging flaw which doesn't detract from the film too much, but does present itself for the duration.

American Hustle doesn't owe a debt to Martin Scorsese's Casino. It owes it's entire existence to it, to the point where if you replaced Bale with De Niro, Cooper with Pesci and combined Adams and Lawrence into Sharon Stone (God forbid) you would, at times, be hard-pushed to tell the difference. The characters often feel very familiar, with it being the actors that make them unique, rather than the story or script. There's a number of stolen ideas too, from the use of a regular multi-character narration to a climactic opening that teases you with what's to come. It's not quite an exploding car, but it still serves the same purpose. I wouldn't call it an identity crisis, because it rarely feels like it's trying to stray from it. Also, I suppose If you're going to use another film as a template, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better one than Casino. I just wish it had been a little more capable of creating it's own style. It's not a damning issue and never stops the film from feeling enjoyable. Just slightly derivative.

If you've driven past anywhere with enough billboards, you will have seen an American Hustle poster and it will probably have been emblazoned with the various Golden Globe nominations. I'm also writing this on the day that the film received 10 BAFTA nominations. Of all the eligible films I have seen, I have absolutely no problems with Hustle's nominations. Sadly though, I don't really want it to win any of them. For me, Captain Phillips deserves Best Film, although I think that's wishful thinking and also need to note that I've not seen 12 Years A Slave or Philomena. Alfonso Cuarón deserves Best Director and I can name others that I want to win in the acting categories, with the exception of Supporting Actress and that's only because I haven't seen the other nominated performances. I also don't think it will win too many of them and fully anticipate that, on ratio of nominations to wins, it will be this year's Lincoln. American Hustle is well worth a watch, but I do think it's going to be a victim of a saturated and incredibly strong awards field. While it doesn't quite hit all the notes needed to be truly great, I fully recommend it, but suspect there's going to be other films more worth your money in the coming weeks.

FOUR out of five

Contains frequent greatness in the performances and the script, but fails to maintain it overall.

Prince Of Persia: The Sands Of Time

A Partially Educated Review of Prince Of Persia: The Sands Of Time

In which we have the best-reviewed video game adaptation of all time. God help the other ones!

It would seem that some members of the Hollywood institution have great issues when it comes to the phrase "if you can't beat them, join them", in that they don't know when that phrase should be applicable. This mentality is most evident in the stream of video game adaptations that have been thrust upon us. Through the works luminaries like Uwe Boll, Paul W.S. Anderson and Andrzej Bartkowiak, one point has been clearly demonstrated: films based on video games are about as appealing a prospect as 24 hours locked inside a room with the cast of Geordie Shore and the complete DVD box set of Made In Chelsea. Given this, combined with the fact that they are usually reserved for the worst directors going, the question needs to be asked: what the hell possessed Mike Newell to make one?

Trailer contains spoilers that the film doesn't hide particularly well anyway

Prince Of Persia: The Sands Of Time stars Jake Gyllenhaal as the titular prince, Dastan, a former street urchin who was adopted and raised by the King of Persia. Dastan and his brothers conduct a successful siege on a city suspected of supplying Persia's enemies with weapons, and take Gemma Arterton's Princess One-Dimensional, here known as Tamina, prisoner along the way. During the celebrations, however, the King is murdered when a cloak presented to him by Dastan turns out to have been covered with… I'm not sure what actually, but it basically burns him to death. Suspected of murder, Dastan is forced to flee with Tamina, where he sets about clearing his name. It is during this time that he discovers that a dagger that he has stolen from the city has the power to turn back time using the mythical sands of time and the same people who have framed him would very much like to take that dagger from him.

A common criticism of video game adaptations is that they feel like watching someone playing a video game, rather than just playing it yourself, and that's not something a lot of people enjoy. In my opinion, this isn't always the case. My bigger issue is that a lot of them are about as faithful to the source material as Pearl Harbo(u)r was to facts. In addition, I'm one of those sad cases who can sit watching people play certain video games and not get fed up. Nonetheless, if there's one game where that's not applicable, it's The Sands Of Time. That's not meant as a knock on the game as I remember absolutely loving playing it, but the linearity of the game itself meant there wasn't particularly anything of interest to watch if you didn't have the controller in your hand. Watching the film version really is just like watching someone play the game. Overly-expository dialogue precedes every set piece, feeling like those really annoying games which spoon feed you every bit of information, as though you're incapable of figuring it out for yourself. Except, this is a film so you don't even get the pleasure of then going on to do it for yourself. It's like a game thinking you're too thick to manage it.

All that may be tolerable if they managed to garner some interest from elsewhere, be it some decent performances or a decent story. Unfortunately, neither exist. In some cases, the terrible acting isn't actually too surprising. SIR! Ben Kingsley has been phoning in his performances for years now, too busy finding new ways to inflate his own opinion of himself, rather than realising that his descent into self-caricature has completed and the quality of his performances has reached a new low. You'd have thought he'd learn to stay away from video game films after BloodRayne, but sadly that is one lesson he is still yet to take on board. Gemma Arterton, meanwhile, has built up a slightly sad reputation of playing bland roles in bland action films (Clash Of The Titans, Hansel And Gretel), conveniently filling the shoes of Britain's Most Wooden Actress after Keira Knightly learnt how to act. It baffles me as to how Arterton demonstrates such effortless charisma and wit in interviews, but then fails to bring anything remotely interesting to the table in her roles. I want to like her performances, because I like her. She's just not making it easy to do that.

The performance that brings up the most confusion though is Jake Gyllenhaal's, as he seemingly forgets that he's a good actor. It's like there's a determination on his part to not descend to the same lows of Keanu Reeves' or Russell Crowe's attempts at the British accent. While he succeeds in this respect, it comes at the expense of a performance that is even remotely acceptable. It doesn't matter that he's delivering lines that feel like they belong in the likes of Sharknado, because it appears that his finely chiseled body is empty of anything closely resembling humanity. His line delivery borders on monosyllabic and he seems so vacant that he makes Henry Cavill's performance as Superman appear multi-dimensional.

As for interesting plot developments, forget it. Perhaps they would have worked better if they were remotely unpredictable. The reveal of who is behind the murder of Dastan's father is obvious, regardless of whether you've watched the trailer or not. If you have watched the trailer though, it's yet another one where they blow one of the major plot points. Elsewhere, the ending is telegraphed very, very early, but don't worry if you miss it, the constant conversations about the origins of the sands of time pretty much scream what's going to happen throughout, meaning that any level of tension or excitement is destroyed by the film's own inability to keep it's mouth shut.

Speaking of failing, there's Mike Newell to talk about. Not many directors can weave through genres and produce work of high quality, but Newell is (most of the time) one of them. Here is a man who followed Four Wedding And A Funeral with Donnie Brasco, before stopping off at the criminally underrated Pushing Tin. He's even proven himself in this genre before, by making one of the decent Harry Potter films. Here though, it's impossible to see any directorial touch. It's like Newell's dialogue on set was comprised entirely of the phrases:

"ACTION!"

"Yep, that'll do"

"CUT!"

"Where's my pay check?"

It's not that it's been directed on autopilot, so much as that it's just not been directed. This feels far more like a film that was made by the producer, ticking the boxes for mass appeal, but forgetting that an enjoyable film should be top of that list. Of course, this is a film produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, so box ticking would never happen!

*COUGH*piratesofthecaribbean*COUGH*

You can't talk about a big budget blockbuster without analysing the spectacle of it. I should probably take this moment to say that if you've come looking for positives, you're wasting your time. There is nothing here that you haven't seen before elsewhere, with the possible exception of ostrich racing and that's nowhere near as fun as it sounds. Nothing makes you wonder how they did it, because it's blatantly all CGI and everything feels just so expensively bereft of anything resembling an artistic touch. It's also fairly shameless in ripping off ideas from other video games. A shot of Dastan stood on a high ledge results in the very same rotating angle that you get in the Assassin's Creed games when you activate a viewpoint. There's also a group of assassins, here referred to as Hassansins, presumably because someone read Wikipedia and found the name of the first Assassin Grandmaster. Well done, you, although if you really wanted to be clever you could have called them Hashashins, because, you know, that's a name they actually did go by. Who needs accuracy though? Anyway, back to point, one of these Hassansins has blades on chains. He may be called Kratos, but that would imply that the filmmakers deem the screaming man with big weapons important enough for a name.

According to Rotten Tomatoes, Prince Of Persia: The Sands Of TIme is the best-reviewed video game adaptation of all time. The fact that it's still only got 35% should be enough of an indictment of how bad these films really are. Watching this film makes the indictment a whole lot worse. Don't worry, though. Need For Speed, Assassin's Creed, Ratchet And Clank, Warcraft, Metal Gear Solid, Mass Effect, Deus Ex and Splinter Cell have all got filmic adaptations in the works. Add to this reboots for Tomb Raider, Hitman and Mortal Kombat. Surely one of them will buck the trend, right?

ONE out of five

Contains Jake Gyllenhaal shirtless. If that's enough to sell the film to you, you deserve to suffer through it.

P.S. They're also making an Angry Birds film. Erm……… Yay?