Gangster Squad film review

Gangster Squad is a slick, confident, cheeky-but-funny man of a movie.  So, for many people it will prove irresistibly sexy - or was that just Ryan Gosling?  He certainly steals the screen for much of the film, despite Josh Brolin's best efforts to give his GI Joe character some spark.

Of all the qualities that make Gangster Squad so watchable, enjoyable and ultimately satisfying, the one that shouts at me the loudest is that it is slick.  The idiom-filled dialogue is slick.  The clean lines of the sets and costumes are slick.  The transitions from intimate dialogue to gunfire and car chasing are slick.  With so much slickness, it runs the risk of being overproduced, and lacking soul.  Perhaps its soul suffers at times, but there are enough honest moments between husband and wife, father and son, and brothers in arms that Gangster Squad emerges as the full package: smooth, polished gold.  If you're thinking that smooth, polished gold sounds boring, I'll draw your attention the to the gem it contains: Sean Penn is a diamond, so rough it may be partly coal.  But coal, too, can sparkle - and how his performance sparkles!  His King of the underbelly is robust and terrifying, a chiseled brute both fiery and heartless.  I love to see actors create characters unlike any in their past repertoire, and Penn had me again in awe of his abilities.

So, I loved the film and I recommend it but there were a few features that got me analysing the direction in which Hollywood is heading, and what that says about the world we live in.  Gangster Squad's violence is graphic and gruesome.  Its saving grace is that it is also rather inventive.  It seems this is the trend that first came to mainstream audiences via Tarantino and has since been welcomed into franchises such as 007 and Batman, as well as stand-alone hits like Drive.  I don't enjoy seeing bloody, realistic deaths.  I've grown somewhat desensitised to it and I can handle it - but that makes me sad.  I do not watch a lot of action films - James Bond bores me and superheroes annoy me - yet even I have grown used to seeing realistic violence on screen.  Is it possible this doesn't translate into more violent tendencies among frequent viewers?  I don't believe that for a moment.  I should give credit where it's due, though: this film had scenes re-shot to replace a scene that closely resembled the tragic Aurora shooting.  But to display violence vividly, and just skirt around anything that may link it to a specific situation, looks a little like taking the gate off its hinges after the horse has bolted.  "What gate?"

This film also got me thinking about women's roles in film.  It's a common enough gripe that there are not enough interesting roles for women and that those roles we have are written by men anyhow.  Well...I thought things were getting better.  Modern films and tv shows give women more power than ever before and we are seeing characters never before shown on screen.  No longer must women be only wives or whores. This made it only more noticeable that the large cast of Gangster Squad included only two women - neither of them particularly interesting characters.  It got me thinking that by setting things in a bygone era, writers are just providing for themselves an excuse for avoiding interesting female roles.  There's more to it than that, I know, but I do think it contributes to the popularity of placing stories in an historical setting.

Of course, I am not naive enough to expect Hollywood to take a moral stand on these issues and censor itself.  I am aware, though, of the ever-increasing influence Hollywood has over the minds and attitudes of younger generations and it disturbs me.

See this film if you are a fan of The Gosling, war heroes, or LA Confidential.

Quartet film review

To set a film in a country manor that houses retired musicians is such an utterly charming idea that Quartet need barely have delivered a story for it to be thoroughly enjoyable.  The English countryside, the pristine decor, and lashings of classical music ensure that the eyes and ears are well cared for before the business of a plot is even considered.  Yet Quartet proceeds with a story that ticks all the boxes any satisfying story does.

The story, then, is quite formulaic.  The telling of it, though, is such a delight that I was more than happy to go along with things, then quite unexpectedly I found I was emotionally invested in the plights of our core cast.  Of the four title roles, Billy Connolly and Pauline Collins provide the film with heart, while Maggie Smith and Tom Courtenay provide the drama and romance.  They perform ably, but all of my favourite moments were owned by Collins.  Her sweetness and innocence are used to great comic effect, while her relentless enthusiasm for reliving the past gives greater poignancy to one of the film's more affecting moments, when we see her past haunt her.

Like any great piece of music balances lightness with strength, heart with structure, and earns its climaxes - so too does Quartet deftly blend humour with drama, and tenderness with tension.

Special mentions to:
- Sheridan Smith for claiming centre of attention whenever she is on screen - her freshness acts as a palette cleanser between courses of aged wines and mature cheeses.
- Whoever assembled Michael Gambon's wardrobe.
- This song.

See this film if you appreciate quaint scenery, opera (only the more popular pieces), and making light of the aging process.

Sightseers film review

I saw this film on a whim, not knowing what to expect but that there should be some laughter involved.  Sure enough, there were moments scattered throughout the film that achieved this result.  Many of those amusing moments were paired with acute shock at the dark subject material.  Disappointingly, there were just as many moments that reached for a laugh but fell flat.

I enjoyed the performances of our central couple and the supporting cast they meet along the way.  I enjoyed the unpredictable plot and the daffy script.  The appreciated that the drabness of the characters and scenery helped to ground the story, however absurd it became.

I enjoyed many moments of Sightseers, but ultimately it was like an adornment strung with pearls and popcorn.  What do you do with it?

For instance, the over-the-top characterisation of our lead's mother felt out of step with the more subtle qualities of other characters.  Similarly, the protagonists' reactions to the events that lead to the second turning point were at odds with their reactions to other similar moments.  I could forgive these inconsistencies if I had laughed more.  Ultimately, the laughs were too few and far between to make this an unmissable comedy.

I enjoyed it.  You might too.  I would not suggest you go out of your way to make sure you see this.

See this film if you have a dark sense of humour, and 90 minutes to murder.

Les Miserables Film Review

I will preface this review by stating that Les Miserables is very dear to my heart, and has been for years.  I have read the book and seen the musical and sung the songs in my bedroom hundreds of times over.  This makes me a tough audience, but with millions of fans worldwide similarly obsessed with the story/music/stageshow, I cannot help but think I am also the target audience.  The film makers will have known from the beginning that criticism would be opinionated and detail-oriented.

With my cards firmly on display, I will now exclaim THE FILM IS BRILLIANT.  I really enjoyed it.  It is faithful to the book and the musical, but clearly establishes its own world and rules.  Only on film is the viewer rewarded with sweeping lansdscapes, intricate sets, extreme close-ups, and realistically bad teeth. The initial grit, though, soon gives way to favour a style that could be described as polished candour.  It seems a necessary concession in the walking the fine line between high stakes and high camp.  I applaud Tom Hooper and the Les Mis team for getting the tone just right.  So with a definite tick in the box labelled 'style', we can examine the 'substance'.  This job was wisely left to the performers, and I felt each was given much freedom to create their own character and musical styling...to mixed results.

  

There are a lot of challenging roles in Les Miserables and the cast do an excellent job.  Well...Russell Crowe doesn't, but I will come back to that.  Hugh Jackman's broad shoulders are proven equal to the task of carrying this gargantuan tale, and he receives help in the first half (ish) of the film from Anne Hathaway.  Jackman's first major musical moment is Valjean's Soliloquy, and he sets the bar high.  In fact, in my opinion it is a bar he never quite reaches again, but he continues to fascinate as his character reinvents himself as often as Madonna.  Hathaway, meanwhile, is a guileless Fantine and she serves the role well – but it just never struck me as Oscar-worthy (like Madonna).  Sorry Annie.  Jackman and Hathaway both spend a lot of time singing in speech quality, or coming off-voice entirely.  It is a shame, when both voices are truly fine ones.  The result of this is that the music falls out of the singing.  As far as musicals go, it was beginning to feel rather unmusical...and then...Suddenly...and then...we fast forward nine years to a time when vocal quality is no longer sacrificed to achieve (debatably) greater emotional truth!  

The leaders of this revolution are Eddie Redmayne, Aaron Tveit, Samantha Barks and Amanda Seyfried.  The young quartet give a masterclass in singing through a phrase from beginning to end, and demonstrate that in doing so the acting need not suffer.  From this point the film flies by, shifting focus to place Marius as our protagonist.  Eddie Redmayne gives us a dignified, charming imp and for the first time in musical theatre history the audience understands what Eponine sees in him.  Marius' distinctly different relationships with Enjolras, Eponine, Cosette, and eventually Valjean make him an interesting man to watch, and I was on his side every step of the way, even when the guns come out (and I'm a peace-loving hippie).  In the past, many Les Mis fans have been of the view that the insipid Marius and Cosette deserve each other, and he really is not worthy of Eponine, who is better off on her own (pretending he's beside her).  Now Redmayne gives us a Marius who treats Eponine like a sister (oh, that's why he doesn't get jiggy with her).  Now Seyfried's Cosette is a clear-headed beauty with a ringing voice and eyes to drown in.  Now their connection has me believing they belong together. 

With the film now firmly focused on the love story, I was unsurprised to learn that the show's most interesting song was cut.  Thenardier's atheistic wail makes such a great counterpoint to Valjean's tortured piousness and Javert's staunch legalism.  In this time of Hitchens, Dawkins and atheist enthusiasm, I feel the song would resonate very well.  Alas.  This cut disappoints me greatly, but it's the only one that does.  I can now only hope for a DVD extra of Sacha Baron Cohen singing Dog Eats Dog.  I'd love to see what he could do with it! 

It must now be time to lament the casting decision that permitted Russell Crowe to sing at us.  It is not that he cannot sing, but he does this and Javert does this.  When Crowe sings in his higher register, he sounds like his nose is blocked.  There are other problems, like the fact that he does not give any dramatic weight to some really big moments (like his vow to catch Valjean at any cost) but mostly HE SOUNDS LIKE HIS NOSE IS BLOCKED.

For the record, Helena Bonham Carter was everything I wished she would be and more, while Baron Cohen  made me lol more than once.

I could not quite get my head around the finale reprise of Do you Hear the People Sing? but I'm hoping it makes more sense the next time I watch it.  And I have the feeling that will be very soon.  The cinema attendants might just get to know me as "the guy who goes to Les Mis every day".

See this film if you enjoyed the stage show, see this film if you enjoy musicals in general, see this film if you like costume dramas.